


Sitzkrieg

by Lesvalkyries



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, And a lot of plot, Armitage Hux is a Jerk, Blitzkrieg, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Smut, France Occupation, Historical Accuracy, I Will Go Down With This Ship, IIWW AU, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Partisan Rey, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Racism, Please be nice, REALLY slow, Reylo WWII AU, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Some angst, Suite Francaise (elements), Summary socks, The Resistence is here too, World War II, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesvalkyries/pseuds/Lesvalkyries
Summary: June 1940. Lieutenant-Colonel Kylo Ren is sent to settle in the little town of Bussy, along with a detachment of the Wehrmacht. During the occupation of France, he will be housed in a high society manor and meet Rey, a young maid aligned with the Resistance.Prejudice, hatred and love will unfold between them in this II World War AU nobody asked for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to MJLupin27 and HikariCaelum. Without your generous collaboration I would not have encouraged to publish this fic.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sitzkrieg:
> 
>  
> 
> "A war, or a phase of a war, in which there is little or no active warfare"

 

**France, June 17, 1940**

The morning light filtered through the window, bathing the attic room with its cheerful brightness. Summer was reaching its zenith, giving days of sunshine and warmth to the village of Bussy. When the rays of the sun reached the foot of the bed, Rey covered her head with the sheet, in an attempt to keep the daylight away.

Instantly, the bedroom door opened and she heard the floorboards creaking softly.

"Rey, wake up!," Jessica hissed, shaking her shoulder.

 

"Leave me alone!", she moaned. "Don’t you see that Madame did not ring the bell yet?"

 

"She is already awake! Something happens, because the kitchen is in an uproar. You better be ready if you do not want a sermon."

 

With an exasperated sigh, the girl drew back the sheets that covered her head. The room she shared with Jess, the one that housed the service staff, was already lit. The sunlight was reflected on the white walls and the dark wooden beams that sloped in the ceiling creaked sporadically. The furniture was simple, but functional to their needs: two metal cots, a dresser, a mirror, two bedside tables and a personal hygiene corner. Here and there, the coloring of some vases containing irises and roses broke the monotony of the chamber.

Jess was sitting on the edge of her bed, ready to start the day: she was wearing an orange dress and had her black hair pulled back in a long braid. Her black, ragged eyes examined her with a mischievous twinkle as the other girl stretched.

When Rey finally woke up, sat next to her friend.

 

"Where were you last night?," whispered to Jess sitting up on the bed—. "It had already dawned when you returned"

 

"I returned at an absolutely respectable hour," answered with a playful smile. "You slept like a dormouse."

 

"It was past twelve and you weren’t in the house yet. Only you are able to find male company in the middle of a war. Does he have all the limbs in place?"

 

"Ey! Are you controlling me?" said, amused. "Anyway, it's a story for another time. Madame will ring the bell soon and I want to know what the hell is going on."

 

With a bang on the door, Jess left the room and Rey stood up in order to dress herself.

She had entered the service of Mr. Holdo’s widow after leaving the orphanage at seventeen, that is, almost two years ago. Of course, the change of air had pleased her. Despite the hard work that the maintenance of the house demanded, at least, she had never lacked anything.

However, life in the manor seemed a little bit melancholy. Jess had told her that the only male son in the family had left to Paris to serve in the French Air Force, just a few days before her arrival. Now, the absence of the beloved first-born -always kind and cheerful, as she had heard- had thrown a mantle of sadness over the Madame and her staff.

Rey looked at herself in the mirror as washed her face. The suntanned skin began to highlight the freckles on her nose and accentuate her hazel eyes. With efficiency, she dried her face with a towel and started to button up a blue summer dress. Her body was unconventionally slim –at least, according to the fashion of the time-, but she tried to emphasize some curves by adjusting a belt on the waist. Finally, she bushed her brown hair in three little buns.

Once ready, the girl stretched the sheets on the bed. The heaviness in the air augured high temperatures by noon and, with some luck, she might have free time to bathe in the lake and read under the shade of the trees.

Carefully, she lifted the mattress and extracted the copy of _Les trois mousquetaires_ that had "borrowed" from the library of the manor. Reverently, she held it for a moment while caressed the bright letters on the cover.

Rey was an orphan and a poor girl who had grown up in the countryside, and books were one of the few pleasures she enjoyed with true fascination. In her childhood, the readings had been limited to a little selection of the orphanage, so it wasn’t unexpected that the huge collection of the manor had left her absolutely euphoric.

Months ago, Rey had discovered that most of the books had belonged Holdo’s son, because the acronym "G.H" was printed with golden calligraphy on the covers. Maybe that's why the Madame had ordered Maz to treasure the entire collection under lock, awaiting the return of her beloved son. Bu when the kind cook had detected the insatiable curiosity of Rey for reading, allowed her to extract some volumes without the knowledge of the hostess.

With a little smile, the young girl wrapped the book in a piece of cloth and put it in her pocket. By then, the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread had awakened her stomach, which began to roar in demand. Maybe Maz had managed to sort out the rationing and get them some bacon as well.

Leaving the attic with anticipation, she left the staff quarters and went down the wooden steps that led to the first floor and the lobby.

Once she landed in the anteroom with an inelegant jump, the sound of the static discharges on the radio surprised her coming from the main room. It was unusual for the government to carry out broadcasts at this time of the morning. Or maybe…

 

 _No,_ she thought, _surely it couldn’t be something good_.

 

Rey walked slowly and stealthily towards the half-open door that led to the main room. Suddenly, a male voice began to be noticeable:

 

" _It is with a heavy heart that I say to you today that the fighting must stop. I spoke last night with the enemy and asked him if he is ready to seek with us, soldier to soldier, after the honorable fight, the means to put an end to the hostilities_."

 

The words of Marshal Philippe Petain sounded like bullets.

 

 _So it's true_ , she thought as a knot set up in her stomach. _We are giving up_.

 

In shock, Rey moved on to the opposite exit of the corridor. In the kitchen, Jess and Maz were stand near the table in tense silence.

The voice of the Marshal sounded remote, but continued with parsimony:

 

"… _May all Frenchmen rally to the government over which I preside during this difficult ordeal and calm their anxieties, so that they can better listen only to the faith they have in the destiny of the fatherland."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tips:
> 
> -Actually, [Petain's announcement](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=due4avh81h4) was made around 12 noon on June 17.
> 
> -The domestic service still existed, although not servitude. However, the line was thin.
> 
> \- [Fashion](https://goo.gl/images/EWpg9M) at countryside 
> 
> \- Philippe Petain was one of the main architects of the [Vichy France](https://goo.gl/images/D7DsVG), thats means, the authoritarian regime that actively collaborated with Germany after the Battle of Paris in 1940.


	2. Invasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you! I hope you are enjoying the beginning of this story. If so, let me know. I have some chapters written and I will be happy to receive comments and suggestions.

**France, July 7, 1940**

Rey and Jessica walked in silence along the tree-lined path that led to the town. The girls were allowed to leave the house on Sundays in order to attend Mass with Madame, although -of course- they wouldn’t share Holdo's vehicle.

It was better that way. Rey loved summer and those walks allowed her to enjoy the sun and the warmth of the countryside. The morning sky was still shining, without a cloud. The birds sang in the trees and the water swayed quietly in the lake. Nature did not seem to care what was about to happen there.

 

"Bloody war," said Jess suddenly, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. "And damn Nazis! I still cannot believe that Pétain gives in to this sad farce. Did you see Mr. Montpellier hanging a Nazi flag in the city hall yesterday? It make me sick." She shook her head with indignation, releasing the smoke through her mouth. "This will not change if we do not do something soon."

 

Rey agreed with Jess. They could not simply sit idly by and collaborate with the hated enemy. But, what else can she do? The simple idea of having foreign soldiers in the town knotted her stomach.

A few weeks ago, there was a rumor that a German detachment was going to occupy Bussy. As had happened in Danzig and Poland, intruders were likely to claim lodgings in local residences to establish a regime of domination and control.

The news had plunged the city into a silent stir. Here and there, peasants worked hard to hide some grain and sacrifice the few remaining farm animals. Naturally, the German army would claim every last chicken to support its troops at the front. Better to consume them now than to let them fall into the hands of the Nazis.

The imminent arrival of the enemy had turned the manor upside down. Luckily the reserves of Holdo's store were the most bulky in the town at that time. The old cook had managed to bribe the grocer and accumulate some "luxury" items -like cinnamon and sugar- in secret.

Of course, Madame Holdo preferred to see her possessions burn than in the hands of those "dirty Germans". She had ordered Rey and Jess to hide the valuables of the house, among which were of course, the precious books.

Work and haste had left them exhausted, but that had not stopped Jess from escaping at night and coming back later and later. So, she decide to took advantage that they were far from the house to divert the subject of conversation.

 

"What are you doing in the nights, Jess?" Rey asked. "Please, tell me. I know you're seeing someone, and I'm going to find out sooner or later ..."

 

"No, you will not. And, in any case, it's not your business," answered Jess with false anger.

 

"You know you can trust me ..."

 

"I don’t want to"

 

"Will you keep slipping away when Nazis arrive?"

 

"Perhaps"

 

"Sometimes you're an arrogant and cocky ass, do you know that?"

 

"If the book thief keeps insisting, I could disclose her dark secret too." Jess smiled mischievously at her, dimming the cigar in the gravel and ending the conversation.

 

Almost unconsciously, Rey touched the copy of _Le comte de Monte-Cristo_ , hidden in her sack. When she noticed that, smiled to herself in anticipation. Maybe she could read some chapters after de Mass.

They continued walking another stretch in silence, enjoying the sun and the light breeze of the morning. Rey wore a light dress buttoned to the front and a sack adorned with patterned flowers, which contrasted with her tanned skin. Now that she was not on duty, her hair was loose to her shoulders. Her friend, on the other hand, wore a sober khaki outfit and had her straight hair in a messy bun.

None of them wore stockings and that was a novelty. Since the war had begun, silk and other textiles were requisitioned by the government to supply the French army. Even though bare legs went against the dictates of Parisian fashion, no one was ashamed of it in Bussy. Rey would never confess it, but she was happy with the change. The sensation of the wind caressing her calves was delicious at this time of year.

However, despite the kind weather, that morning in July she could not escape the anguish that welled up in her chest. Somehow, a dark omen hung in the atmosphere.

After leaving the countryside behind, she broke the silence again with a sigh of resignation. There was no point in continuing to hide her fears from her friend.

 

"How do you think they will be?" whispered. "I mean, it's not that I have not seen a German before. But… is it true? All that stuff the press say about the Nazis?"

 

Jess snorted, resigned.

 

"Do not expect kind treatment, if that's what you meant. We were defeated, Rey. They are not going to let us forget that. They will not forget Versailles." She stopped, taking her friend by the arm in a protective gesture. "Look, I do not want to alarm you. But we have to be expecting the worst, okay?"

 

Rey knew what Jess was talking about. Frequently, the news echoed the terrible atrocities of the Nazi regime in the occupied territories: looting, impunity, violence ... Besides, it wasn’t the first time that an enemy crossed the borders of France. Older women could still remember the cruelty of the Prussian army after the Battle of Sedan in 1870 and the violence perpetrated against civilians during the Great War.

In a period of less than seventy years, France had been raped and plundered twice, and this need not be the exception.

She swallowed and nodded to her friend, in silence. Both looked at each other, with tacit determination.

If that were the case, then there was no way out than resist.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

That morning, the _Oberstleutnant_ watched the small town that began to appear on the horizon, with slight boredom. According to his rank, he was sitting in the front of the opulent Mercedes Benz that headed the occupation column of the _Wehrmacht_. Ten convoys of equipment, three Panzers, ten motorcycles and hundreds of soldiers were moving forward behind his back.

Two weeks ago, the Reich troops had managed to occupy Paris, forcing Vichy’s government to sign the armistice. In order to celebrate this unprecedented event, the German army had paraded for three whole days through the streets of the French capital as if it were a Wagner Opera.

Now, overcome with the initial euphoria of the conquerors, the _Wehrmacht_ High Command had given precise instructions to get to work. For the time being, Ren's mission was to settle in the town of Bussy and take effective control of the territory until the arrival of General Snoke.

 

"A prize for your service," Snoke had said, handing the promotion to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel . " _Use it well_."

 

But Kylo Ren had been able to read between the lines. Clearly, the ascent was not only accompanied by an unpleasant task, but it covered up the final step to test his loyalty to the _Reich_.

 

 _If only he had been born on German soil_ , he thought with a grimace, _surely he would have nothing to prove._

 

That was another piece of his father's cursed legacy. The memory of Han Solo's German-phobia made his right hand twitch next to the rear-view mirror.

 

"I will never allow my son to grow up in this land full of assassins," he had said to his mother when she was still working as an Ambassador in the shattered Republic of Weimar. "We have to move on to England or France, immediately."

 

Since then, and until Kylo Ren had turned eighteen, the family had settled in London or Paris. That, and the decision to educate him with his uncle Luke, had been the beginning of the end of their relationship. He had not been happy with the arrangement, of course. Especially since the moment he discovered the true identity of his family.

 

While his mind wandered among the memories of his childhood, the flashes of the ridiculous talk that took place in the car among his subordinates drew him from his musings.

 

"Just imagine," said Major Amrmitage Hux with excitement, "all those women left behind by their miserable French husbands ... Surely they are desperate for _company_." He ended the sentence with an obscene gesture while his companions laughed. The Lieutenant Colonel cleared his throat in disgust. "Do not look at me like that, _Herr_ Ren," he said, distilling venom as he used the rearview mirror to accommodate his red hair. "I'm sure we can find some little prude Frenchwoman for you, too."

 

Kylo Ren stared back with distaste. For a moment, he thought about arguing him, but deep down he knew what Hux was looking for.

They had enlisted together in the _Wehrmacht_ and had since developed a relationship that could hardly be described as friendship. Actually, both were needed. The connections of Brandon Hux had opened the doors of Generals willing to obviate the fact that he was not a German by birth, and in return, Ren had given his son some protection.

However, the recent promotion of Ren had intensified the misgivings of Hux, who did not lose opportunity to try to disavow him in front of the subordinates.

 

"I would not go ahead, Armitage," Ren replied, with a threat disguised as a smile. "You know perfectly well that the High Command will not tolerate the rape of the local population. And neither do I," he added, with authority. "However, it will be interesting to see you put into practice your… _gallantries_. Like at _122,_ in Paris."

 

After that, the other occupants of the car burst into an even louder laugh.

Hux pursed his lips with a grimace of suppressed rage.

The _122_ was the most famous and elegant brothel in Paris, named because it was located at 122 of the _Rue de Provence_. After the occupation of the city, the German soldiers had been surprised by the climate of sexual freedom and brazenness that was lived in the French cabarets, to which they gave themselves completely. Unsurprisingly, Hux's unbearable arrogance had made him the target of the jokes of other officers and prostitutes more than once.

Ren had watched the pathetic scene from the distance. He had never been fond of paying for sex, and less here, so far from his beloved Germany.

Although the High Command allowed the soldiers to have some fun –as long as the brothels were approved and licensed-, won’t admit the rape of the civilians. According to the ideology of the party, -and the _F_ _u_ _ehrer_ itself- young Germans would be the greatest exponents of the virtues of the "Aryan race", and as such, they had to become an example of civilization for the entire world.

The road to Bussy meandered through a leafy grove. Since neither Ren nor Hux had the courage to continue the dispute, the rest of the way was practically silent.

As the _Oberstleutnant_ could verify, there was not even a peasant in the fields. Probably, the villagers would be attending Sunday morning service.

Better like that.

Kylo Ren was not a bloodthirsty guy, but he had a task in hands and was willing to complete it.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

The last warning bells rang. Rey and Jess hurried to enter the Church and take a seat on the last wooden bench, as the conventions of their social status indicated.

The amplified echo of their footsteps and whispers were transformed into a great commotion that earned them a reproachful look from Madame, located in the front row.

Rey looked around with a sigh. The church was one of the largest buildings in the town, comparable only to the Mayor's Office. It was built in stone and adorned with huge, gothic-style windows. The high vaulted ceilings kept the atmosphere remarkably cool. The air, however, was laden with the perfume of incense and the smoke of the candles.

The place was more crowded than usual. In the last weeks, since the Germans had taken Paris, a massive exodus of population had been arriving to Bussy. Women, old people and children had filled the road for days, hoping to escape from the enemy's clutches.

Rey noticed them with pity.

These people had lost everything: their family, their home and their possessions... Nothing would ever be the same for them. Each face showed, without exception, the sorrow of who had lived the war in the flesh.

The priest was preaching the homily with parsimony, and Jess began to nodding sleep. In that moment, a barely perceptible sound brought Rey out of her thoughts. As it increased, the walls began to vibrate slightly. Soon, she could distinguish the constant bustle of several engines, along with the rhythmic sound of martial steps and ...

Her blood froze.

 

"Jess!," whispered urgently, waking up her friend. " _They're here_."

 

Now that the sounds were unmistakable, a wave of dull terror ran through the crowd of the church, as they understood the dire significance of street noises. The priest must have noticed, because drained the end of the sermon and began to pray Our Father.

 

While the anxiety grew, some began to prepare to leave the building at full speed. Even the most notable citizens obviated the rules of decorum and rushed towards the exit. Madame Holdo passed by them, with a look full of meaning. Jess took Rey by the arm, and together, they hurriedly left with the rest of the civilians.

 

 _Too late_ , thought Rey once outside.

 

The main square, on which the Church stood, was now the setting of the deployment of the occupying forces. Three Panzer vehicles and ten motorcycles paraded before their eyes, with the arrogance of the victors. Two columns of soldiers on foot marched on the right flank, while some luxury cars parked next to the fountain.

The small crowd of Frenchmen huddled together at the epicenter of the deployment in a tight circle. Some made an extra effort to stand up to the enemy with a grimace of pride and contempt. However, most of them watched the foreign invaders with horror.

When the occupants of the vehicle got out of the cars -the Officers, Rey supposed- the parade stopped, leaving the square in silence.

She could not suppress a shudder that made her neck hair stand on end.

After a few minutes, a red-haired officer -with the whitest skin that Rey had ever seen-, hurried to take a megaphone.

 

"According to the authority of Marshal Petain, a new Constitution of the French State was signed, guaranteeing the rights of work, family and _Fatherland,"_  he made a ironic grimace at this last word, and continued. "You were defeated. Now we are in charge."

 

At his words, Rey and Jess looked at each other in horror.

 

"Let's go now, Rey!," whispered her friend, pulling her arm.

 

The young girl did not move. Dread had screwed her to the floor.

The dust raised by the occupants had darkened the light and now gave the crowded plaza an aura of unreality.

Was she dreaming again?

With desperation, she looked up for some signal that proved that everything was just a nightmare.

But no, this wasn’t a dream.

The tanks, the lascivious grimaces of the soldiers, the smell of burned fuel, everything was very, _very_ real.

While her mind wandered, confused, her gaze met one of the Germans who were standing next to the redhead. He stood out by his stature and, unlike his compatriots, a mop of dark hair hung from his cap. Judging by the solemnity of his carriage, and the innumerable decorations of the uniform, Rey assumed that he was an Officer.

For a moment, the man held his gaze to hers, with dark and piercing eyes. Despite the commotion of the square, his look seemed cold, dispassionate and boring.

Rey shivered and broke the contact, self-conscius.

Meanwhile, his partner continued talking on the megaphone.

 

"All of you must deliver all firearms in the morning. Those who shelter the officers must return home and wait there."

At her side, Jess insisted.

 

"Rey, come on!" said, taking her out of the trance. "Madame waits for us in the car."

 

"Yes, I'm sorry," she answered, rubbing the tears that had suddenly flooded her eyes, "let's get out of here."

 

Without looking back at the occupants, they undertook the return to the manor.

Now, for the first time in almost two years, Rey was aware of the seriousness of the situation.

This wasn’t the “drôle de guerre”, not anymore.

 The war, a very real one, had finally reached Bussy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tips.  
> \- Everyone in Europe smoked cigars back then (in fact, the war was a big deal for the tobacco companies).  
> \- [Danzig and Poland](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polish_Corridor) were the first territories invaded by Hitler at the beginning of the war  
> -Yes, France was invaded several times, during the Franco-Prussian War and the First World War  
> \- Kylo Ren would look [like this](https://goo.gl/images/n8W1aS), (but hotter than hell ;) ).  
> \- The [122](https://goo.gl/images/CoiWwd)was the most famous brothel in Paris.
> 
> -"Drole de guerre"/"Phoney War" was an eight-month period at the start of World War II, during which there was only one limited military land operation on the Western Front. It means something like "Fake war".


	3. Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you! Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, it means a lot to me!
> 
> As a bonus for being new at this, I leave here the second chapter. The plan is to publish once a week, and the entire work will last about 25/26 chapters. 
> 
> Warning: This story may contain references and characters with xenophobic attitudes. Of course, that doesn't mean that I agree with them, but unfortunately, even in 1940 - many years after the abolition of slavery and servitude - things had not changed too much. 
> 
> Again, thanks to MJLupin27 and HikariCaelum for doing such a wonderful beta job. Of course, any typing or spelling error that appears is due to my terrible translation.
> 
> Enjoy!

As soon as they had set foot in the manor, Amilyn Holdo had given directives to the staff to arrange the final preparations. Madame's iron temper, and the resolution with which she ruled her house, were barely enough to hide the panic in her gaze. Despite her stoic appearance, Rey had come to perceive flashes of tears in her eyes, and a grimace of deep bitterness at the corner of her lips.

The old woman had grown accustomed to going through the rigors of war. The death of her husband after the Great War and the departure of her only son in recent years had not managed to bring down the spirit of this incredible woman. However, the lack of news about Gaston's whereabouts in the last months, and the prospect of war that was hovering over Bussy, had begun to crack her defenses.

Around noon, the preparations had ceased. While the women were quietly eating a frugal lunch, someone finally knocked on the door. They all raised their heads briefly to the clock, .

The young girls ran to occupy their positions, as if it were a previously rehearsed choreography. Mrs. Holdo took place in front of the door, recomposing the last fragments of her dignified bearing. Rey and Jess stood behind, staring at the ground.

A tall, dark shadow was outlined behind the _vitreaux_ of the entrance. With a quick glance, Rey caught the silhouette -clearly uniformed- removing his cap and holding it in his hands.

A quick gesture from Madame and Maz proceeded to open the door.

 

"Good morning, Mrs. Holdo," said a deep voice in perfect French. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Kylo Ren. I hope you were aware of my arrival."

 

Rey looked briefly up to observe the occupant. To her displeasure, she noticed that it was the same soldier with whom he had made eye contact in the square. He wore a green and impeccable uniform, adorned with the decorations corresponding to his rank. A wide brown belt clung to his waist and the black boots shone brightly. Up close he seemed even more intimidating and his exceptional stature dominated the scene.

For a moment, his eyes fell on Rey with an expression of recognition, before returning to Mrs. Holdo. Immediately, the young woman looked down, surprised of her own audacity.

Madame continued in a silence full of meaning - _you are an invader and you are not welcome here_ \- after which she nodded almost imperceptibly.

 

"My intention is not to bother you," He continued, indifferent. "I just need a bedroom and a studio to work on."

 

Then, without waiting for an invitation, the Lieutenant Colonel crossed the threshold with a determined step and, in front of a stupefied Mrs. Holdo, modified the time of the main clock in the room.

 

"You must excuse me Madame, but I cannot be late. I hope you do not mind," said, but the apology didn't reached his eyes.  _As if he had a right to be here_ , Rey thought. " _Gefreiter, hier!"_ He snarled, in German.

 

Instantly, another soldier –clearly of low rank- appeared. He was carrying what must have been the lieutenant's suitcases.

Madame held her breath, with an audible inhalation. Looking up again, Rey understood why. The dark skin of the corporal contrasted sharply with the paleness of his superior and the typical features of the inhabitants of the colonies were printed on his face. Rey had seen black people before, but here, outside the big cities, where the aristocracy and the peasants clung to more racist and conservative beliefs, it wasn't common. Of course, Mrs. Holdo would consider herself a distinguished lady of high society and interpreted his intrusion as another offense to her rank and social status.

Despite the tension on the atmosphere, Lieutenant Colonel began to climb the stairs without asking permission. The corporal briefly greeted the women with a nod and ran after the officer loaded with two suitcases.

Once the footsteps sounded muffled on the upper floor, the Madame let out a snort of indignation.

 

"How dare they?!"

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

Once he had settled in his belongings in the room, Kylo Ren dismissed the corporal. The accommodations had been assigned according to the rank of the soldiers, which is why he wasn't surprised to find a spacious and comfortable _suite_. It had a beautifully crafted oak bed, matching with the wardrobe and the bedside table. The walls were covered with an acquamarine, floral wallpaper and heavy deep blue curtains hung over the windows.

The door on the right bordered the studio directly. It was a larger room still, similarly decorated -violet paper walls, a desk and a chair, several bookcases and a grey sofa. However, the first thing he noticed upon entering was that all the shelves and drawers in the room were empty. By all accounts, the objects in the studio had been removed after the announcement of his arrival.

As he had foreseen, the hostess and the women of the service had not deigned to address him, giving back their respectful presentation with murderous looks.

Of course, even defeated, the French were proud. He knew it firsthand. His mother was a native of Paris and had been an ambassador in different parts of the world since Ren had the use of reason.

His mother... By now, perhaps, she had taken refuge with her beloved Englishmen or the affluent Americans. Not that he cared, of course. But, certainly, he had to admit that there was something in Mrs. Holdo's that reminded him vividly of Leia Organa.

Everything in that _damn_ country tasted like Leia Organa.

To put aside his treacherous thoughts, the Lieutenant began to display the papers signed by the high command on the table, and ordered them diligently. He took the first stack of letters and reports with a snort.

_A boring and unpleasant job, that's for sure._

While he was trying to focus on his task, a distant melody coming from aboard caught his attention. Discreetly, he stood by the window that overlooked the garden, with the intention of identifying the origin of the sound.

There was that girl, again.

She was the one who had looked at him, like he was a real _monster_.

Maybe they all did, but, for some inexplicable reason, the judgment that had been drawn on her face that morning had affected him more than usual.

Now, in the distance, he could watch at ease. She was very young. Her brown hair swayed in the breeze as she washed clothes in the fountain. Her bare feet were submerged in the water, and her skirt was slightly rolled up at the knees, revealing sun-tanned skin.

The girl was singing a quiet melody. He couldn’t identify the song, but for some reason, the notes echoed in his mind like old friends. A faded memory of his childhood, perhaps.

He watched her a few more minutes until, interrupting the melody, she placed the wet clothes in a basket and disappeared from sight without noticing him. Shaking his head, Ren decided it was time to sit back at the desk and resume work without further distractions.

He had a lot of work to do, and he could not keep looking for excuses to distract himself. His General had demanded a detailed report of the situation of the commune, and he had to start getting acquainted with the situation.

After the third document, he cursed for the fifteenth time the bureaucracy of the Nazi party and the administrative disorder with which Bussy was managed.

Mechanically, he groped in the drawers for some blank paper, but everything was immaculately empty.

With a sigh of impatience, he sat up. For a moment, Ren struggled between asking the hostess or wasting time going to town to look for supplies.

 _Nothing is lost with trying_ , he decided.

Intentionally, the Lieutenant hit his boots against the floorboards, in order to announce his imminent presence to the residents of the manor.

After go down the stairs, he entered the main room with martial resolution, without knocking on the door.

There was no sign of his stoic hostess there. Probably, she was avoiding his presence.

In consequence, he decided to ask the staff in kitchen. Maybe the service could take care of providing the supplies he needed.

When he slid the door slowly, the melodious voice he had heard from the studio reached his ears with total clarity.

The young woman had her back to him, working alone on the kitchen. She seemed totally absorbed in the task of cutting flowers, he presumed, to place in the vase that was at her side

 

"Good evening," the Lieutenant Colonel said in French, with a little abruptness.

 

At once, the young woman shuddered at his intrusion. With a sudden movement of arms, her elbow hit the vase and it fell to the floor. The porcelain burst until it shattered, while water and flowers scattered on the ground.

The girl caught the scene letting out a mute exclamation of surprise.

 

Sorry!" Said the Lieutenant, hurrying to lean over his knee to lift the fragments. "I did not mean to scare you."

 

The young woman continued staring the scene, apparently frozen.

 

"Unfortunately, I think there is no going back for the vase," He continued, gathering the fragments together. "Did I get you in trouble?"

 

At the heaviness of his silence, Ren finally looked up at her curiously. On the way, his eyes inevitably traced the outline of her figure: long, muscular legs, well-proportioned hips and erect shoulders. When his gaze reached the girl's face, he stopped at her beautiful hazel eyes.

In that moment, he realized that the girl was looking back at him, clearly horrified.

Ren cursed himself, now self-conscious.

Why did he act like that?

He was not lascivious at all. In fact, his attitude could be attributed more to curiosity than to mere lust. However, belatedly, he realized that she had probably interpreted it as an obscene and disgusting gesture.

The girl was still looking at him, clinging to the counter. Suddenly, by the blush on her face, she must have realized that the scene was totally inappropriate: she, a defeated Frenchwoman and he, the invader at her feet, who with little effort could see the internal hem of her skirt and the bare skin of her legs.

With a quick movement, she bent down and removed sharply the remains of the vase from his hands, without touching him.

 

"I'm sorry," he repeated, standing up. "It wasn’t my intention to scare you. What is your name?"

 

Clearly, she was not willing to answer his question and started walking towars the door, ready to flee the room.

 

"Wait!" He shouted, and she turned briefly to look on his direction, without meeting his gaze. "I need your help. Maybe you could tell me where to get paper."

 

For a moment she seemed to weigh the possibilities, between helping or leaving him there. After that, the girl deposited the remains of the vase in a basket and left the kitchen at full speed.

Before Ren could conclude that the girl had simply fled, she reappeared with a bundle of paper and placed it on the counter. Without saying a word, she took the basket with the remains and disappeared again, leaving him stunned in the middle of the room.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

That night, the German curfew sounded for the first time in the town of Bussy.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

Poe Dameron was born in 1913, a year before the Great War. Since then, he had experienced firsthand the rising of the French Communist Party.

At an early age, his parents had insisted on taking him to the rallies where he could taste heated debates and intricate philosophical expositions.

In his youth, he had read Marx, Hegel, Luxemburg, Lenin and Bakunin. He had supported the government of Leon Blum, denounced to Franco-British imperialism and the German-Soviet alliance. He had been present in France that September 26, 1939 when Daladier’s government had outlawed the party, plunging it into hiding.

Since the outbreak of the war, Poe had been systematically prosecuted by justice. At that time, he not only appeared in the registers as a recognized troublemaker of the CFP, but he had also become a deserter - and a "traitor to the Fatherland" - for his refusal to enlist in the war.

 

"The government wants to deceive the working class with a war that does not belong to us, that divides us." he had said at a meeting, after the start of hostilities. "The imperialist struggle has little to do with the true aspirations of the French people and the workers."

 

Since then, he had wandered underground into the country, encouraging the discontent of those who opposed the struggle, with little success. In effect, the "defense of the Fatherland" had triumphed over the internationalist aspirations of some members of the CFP.

However, the invasion of France had given a new purpose to the Resistance that was beginning to organize around General De Gaulle. Now, Poe was traveling around the occupied zone, encouraging the villagers to resist and not collaborate with the Germans.

That night, his mission had taken him incognito to Bussy. A few days before, the Generals of the Resistance had informed him of the existence of a handful of discontented settlers, who met secretly in the forest.

It was, without a doubt, an unbeatable opportunity to add support to his cause and to hear first-hand the hardships of the people.

At the appointed time and place, his contact -an old peasant with a sullen appearance, who had not said much-, guided him by a secret path that led to the rally. It was a half-collapsed cottage in the middle of the trees that, to the naked eye, seemed to be practically uninhabited.

The peasant escorted Poe inside, into what seemed to be the kitchen pantries. There, he activated the hidden door that led to an underground cellar. Immediately, the muffled sound of voices, the warmth of the fire and the smell of cigars and beer welcomed him.

The rally seemed to have started without him and gathered a lot of humble but determined-looking locals: elderly or crippled men who have not been able to participate in the war, and women of all ages who converse in low voices.

Above the crowd, a young woman with black hair stood and prayed to the audience. She wore a simple dress and her slanted eyes shone with excitement.

 

"We know that some of the wealthiest families are eager to collaborate with the enemy to save their fortunes," said resolutely, waving her hand in the air. "We cannot trust them. Do not be deceived: they are not going to move a finger for us. To survive, we must organize those who know hard work. We are going to defend the land that belongs to us, as the elder generations and our men at the front have done. _Long live Free France_!," finished fiercely.

 

The audience agreed with a murmur of approval. Some even applauded. She was young, no more than twenty-three years old. But Poe could recognize charisma when he saw it, and this woman definitely had magnetism to be a speaker.

When the brunette came down from her improvised stage, she took her beer and lit a distracted cigarette, looking at the people milling around her.

Catching Poe's curiosity, the surly peasant spoke to him, perhaps for the first time all night.

 

"There, she's the one you should talk to," he growled at the young woman's direction.

 

"She?," answered the rebel, fascinated.

 

"The same. Our dear Jessica."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tips:
> 
> \- _Gefreiter_ means second corporal in english (I'm sure you can guess who is he ;) ) and it was one of the lowest ranges of the Wehrmacht.
> 
> -There was black people in the German army? Yes. Most came from the colonies, especially those french who supported the Vichy regime. However, as we will see later, I took some "liberties" with the character ;)
> 
> -The curfew was an usual way of controlling the invaded areas at night. That means, it is forbbiden to leave your home.
> 
> -Marx, Hegel, Luxemburg, Lenin and Bakunin are the founders of the communist ideology.
> 
> -Poe is communist, but many of them were against Stalin and the USSR when they allied with Hitler. A lot of memebers of the party were against the war, because they considered it an imperialist issue.


	4. Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

That night, Rey dreamed about _him_.

At first, they were back in the kitchen: she, standing firmly, clinging to the counter; he knelt, gathering the remains of porcelain scattered on the floor.

Then, the Lieutenant Colonel looked up at her.

His black hair -tightly combed, she noticed, though a little longer than usual- framed his angular features. She was also surprised to discover that his eyes were not entirely dark, but that they had soft amber tints when reflected in the sun.

That look, so expressive, traveled through her with intensity, in a way that should have offended her.

However, it did not.

For a brief moment, the cultural, political and symbolic abyss that separated them seemed to have disappeared. Rey was no longer afraid, just regarded. Curiosity was mixed with an abrasive feeling in her belly, in a way that she didn’t know how to define.

But, when the light left the kitchen, the painting changed. The darkness, interrupted by a faint reddish light, transmuted the scene into a terrifying nightmare.

Now, he stretched his hands lasciviously over her legs. His gaze was no longer intense, but cruel, cold and _monstrous_.

The Lieutenant absorbed all the light in the room and began to devour her, like a cannibal. His teeth scratched her skin, like jagged pieces of shattered porcelain. She wanted to escape, but could not move her body. She wanted to scream, but no sounds came out of her mouth. The darkness consumed her while, with dull desperation, she made a titanic effort to move, to move away, and then...

Rey woke up, panting, as she sat up in bed.

It took her a few minutes to understand that she was in her room, on a warm summer night, and that there was no real danger.

 _Or, at least, for now,_ her treacherous unconscious whispered.

At the time her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she noticed that Jessica's bed was empty.

 

"Not again, Jess," she whispered.

 

A slight breeze entered through the window, which was barely half-closed. It must be midnight already.

If someone had found her… if the Nazis had found her...

No, Rey could not get on that train of thoughts without going crazy. Setting aside the terrible consequences, she decided to lie down again and wait for her friend to return safely.

What else could she do now?

She knew that the time to confront Jess would come, inevitably. Since Rey had entered the Mansion, her friend had protected her as a younger sister, perhaps the only real family she would ever have ...

No, she couldn’t lose her. It doesn’t matter what –or _who_ \- was influencing her to leave the manor at night, but this had to end. The Germans had made it very clear, that any unauthorized activity was prohibited after the curfew. And, if that were not enough, the arrival of the _guest_ further complicated things.

Her thoughts turned to the recent nightmare. The meeting with the Lieutenant had left her upset, and that was quite evident.

Until then, she had not considered the possibility of having some kind of interaction with him. Madame Holdo had ordered them, strictly, not to speak to him or make eye contact, although Rey did not expect the occupant to even deign to look at her.

But he did ... And, although she would never admit it openly, something in that meeting had not felt completely wrong. He had knelt in front of her, and had observed her with some brazenness -or genuine curiosity- after which, he had visibly embarrassed himself.

By all accounts, the vulnerability of the gesture had surprised her. That afternoon, in the kitchen, he had not seemed like a monster without a soul, but a human being of flesh and blood.

Was he the enemy?

Could she just hate him?

 

 _Of course not_ , said the voice of reason on her head, _this doesn’t change anything_.

 

Although he had behaved with kindness, he was, still, the personification of her fears, the invader of her country, the executioner of the Nazi's cruelty, and the origin of the damned war.

No, she couldn’t allow another interaction with him.

While her mind wandered between wakefulness and sleep, finally, she heard the squeak of the window. Jessica barely made a sound as she went back to bed slowly.

Rey considered the possibility of confronting her at that precise moment, but then thought better of it. That conversation had to wait for the light of day.

Pretending to be sound asleep, she plunged back into her pillow and, this time, she dreamed absolutely nothing.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

The Lieutenant Colonel awoke minutes before dawn, a custom acquired in his years of training in the _Wehrmacht_ and the battle front.

His mind still drowsy and, for a few moments, he wondered where he was.

His first night in the French _suite_ had not been exactly peaceful. More than once, he had woken up covered in sweat, chased by horrible nightmares: Han Solo's gaunt face, a melody in the distance, and the soft touch of his mother's hands.

Shaking off any remnants of sleep, he washed his face in the basin and began to put on the impeccable uniform that the corporal had left ready in the closet the day before. There seemed to be no movement in the house yet, so he decided to have breakfast at the City Hall of Bussy.

He had a lot of work to do. Kylo Ren -like the rest of the generals- was convinced that occupation was the only way to improve the quality of life of the French while the war continued. To this end, the High Command had entrusted them a lot of tasks that the _Wehrmacht_ had to deploy in French territory: confiscate the weapons of the civilians, corroborate the cadastre of the commune to control the intruders, rebuild the bombed buildings and ensure production of the fertile lands to supply the troops.

 _Or, a nice lie to secure the supply chain in the front and keep civilians appeased_ , another voice said in his mind. It sounded like something Leia Organa would say.

With annoyance, he shook his head and checked the time on the hall clock. Just in time. Immediately, the muffled roar of the Mercedes Benz that awaited him at the door reached his ears.

When, half an hour later, Ren had entered the town hall, he discovered that Viscount Montpellier was waiting for him in his office. The room was exquisitely decorated with white marble planks and wooden panels riveted on the walls. The furniture was as old as it was luxurious, carved in carob, and the shelves were full of volumes until they reached the ceiling. Outside, following the corridor, a broader corridor was opened with smaller offices filled with busy soldiers.

By all accounts, Montpellier was one of Bussy's wealthiest types. He wore an immaculate suit, and carried a box of cigars and a bottle of champagne in his left hand.

 _Gifts to ask for a favor_ , the Lieutenant thought.

He wasn’t wrong.

As Kylo Ren was able to discover after a few minutes of meaningless chatter, the man's true intention was to request the transfer of the officer who was staying at his house.

"It's my wife, you will understand ... Are you married?" He asked with complicity.

"No," Ren said dryly, and for a brief moment he caught a glimpse of the Viscount's calculating gaze.

"We have some tenant houses outside the Mansion. I offer you ..."

"The High Command has insisted on putting the equals with the equals, I can assure you that," he cut, sharp.

Meanwhile, he looked through his forms to identify the petty officer housed in the most elegant Mansion in the place. The result did not surprise him. The words " _Mayor Armitage Hux_ " excelled in the list, with the imprint of those who have good connections and know how to use them to get what they want.

For a moment, he considered the possibility of dispatching the Viscount unceremoniously. Kylo Ren despised the way of life of the aristocracy and its pathetic banal dilemmas, always willing to take attributions above others.

However, the opportunity was too good to let go. If he met his request, not only did he gain a potential ally to keep control of Bussy, but he could play Hux a dirty trick, right where it hurt him most.

Leaning for the second option, Ren continued.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat, "I think we could make an exception given the character of your ... status."

The Viscount, who until a few seconds ago looked defeated, became enlightened.

"And I will not forget the kindness of the Reich in this matter, you can assure it," he said, flattering. "I will take care that it is so, _personally_."

After agreeing briefly, Kylo Ren stood up, ending the meeting. With a wink of complicity, Montpellier shook his hand and left the room with regal air.

As he took his seat again, the Lieutenant Colonel lit one of the cigars in the box thoughtfully. He had no appreciation for the types of Montpellier’s kind, and such a display of opulence in wartime made him uncomfortable.

However, the simple idea of seeing Hux hurt in his gigantic ego, was enough to ward off his tribulations.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

The sun was already high in the sky when Rey crossed the town square, towards the warehouse.

For the first time in two years, Bussy was a real stir. The German soldiers swarmed in every corner of the village while the locals -more tense than usual- tried to continue with their daily lives.

Contrary to what she had expected, the invaders did not seem to be idle. Some had begun to repair the buildings most damaged by the bombing. Others were unloading supplies from the convoys. A few, ran here and there giving instructions.

The only exception was the redhead Rey had seen in the square the day before. Unlike his compatriots, he was loitering by the fountain, while the carpenter's daughter smiled at him, flattering.

A spark of rage flared in her chest.

Faced with such a display of activity, the younger girls boiled with obvious excitement. Despite her anger, Rey knew she couldn’t blame them. It had been years since any young men had been seen in the town, and the number of unmarried women of deserving age was growing more and more.

Older women, however, were openly hostile to the _fraternization_ that was unfolding in the square. Some mothers, even, had literally torn their daughters from the clutches of the Nazis, without any courtesy or regard.

But it was like fighting the tide.

The fact that the Germans were strutting about as if the streets were some kind of parade it did not help either. Those who worked in the reconstruction of the town, had taken off their uniforms and displayed their toned arms without shame. Most were young, athletic and well groomed. In addition, they were very nice. Here and there, more than one soldier was insisting on collaborating with the locals, gesticulating with their hands or improvising short phrases in French.

As she approached the warehouse, Rey could not help but notice the group of african soldiers who worked together collecting debris. There were a few, maybe a score, but the isolation from their compatriots was clear, and it seemed they had received the hardest jobs.

She watched them for a moment, feeling some empathy. The simple fact that they were aligned on the opposite side could not hide that they were also in inferior conditions here. And, at least, they did not strut openly, showing off their masculine attributes.

One of them smiled at her kindly and Rey remembered him. It was the corporal who had accompanied the Lieutenant Colonel to the Mansion the previous afternoon. The greeting seemed selfless and sincere, which is why she decided to return the gesture with a shy smile.

While she was watching them distracting, almost collides with the man that appeared in front of her.

"Can I help you load the packages?," said a deep voice.

Rey could recognize that sound anywhere. In fact, it had stalked her all night in her nightmares.

The Lieutenant Colonel was in front of her, or, at least, his muscular torso, covered only with a white T-shirt that did not leave much to the imagination. His hands were oiled and he was covered in sweat.

Rey felt mortified.

_Why was he still insisting on talking to her?_

Without looking up, she took away from him, shaking her head energetically.

"I'm going to the Mansion anyway," he insisted.

Rey was fed up with his stupid kindness. Of course, he should be like his arrogant compatriots.

But she had decided that she would never answer to him. Lifting her forehead with determination, Rey continued on her way without even a look of recognition.

In the distance, he heard him murmur:

"At least you could be kind enough to decline the offer."

In response, she quickened her steps and disappeared after rounding the corner.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

By midmorning, Kylo Ren's mood had worsened noticeably.

The meetings in the mayor's office had been a real headache. The administrative records of the commune were suspiciously missing or were a real disaster. On the basis of the scant information available in the cadastres, the requisitions of cereals and cattle had to be organized, and he doubted that the locals would collaborate in the task. As if that were not enough, so far this day he had dealt with more petulant aristocrats than his patience allowed him, while trying to embark on the unpleasant task of putting order in the troop before them surrendered to excesses and idleness.

When the sun was high enough, Ren managed to escape from the dark office. The heat of the square was suffocating, but at least here, he could afford to remain silent. Leaving aside the uniform jacket and shirt, he set out to work on cleaning the engine of a Panzer vehicle that had been stationed near the mayor's office.

Although the officers were not required to collaborate in this type of job, Ren considered that he should set an example to his subordinates. In addition, the mechanical tasks -acquired from childhood in Han Solo’s workshops - allowed him to vent the bad mood.

So, at noon, his mind found balance in a place close to tranquility. The heat had increased and, by now, it was already covered in dust and sweat. But, anyway, this felt infinitely better than the mayor’s office.

Concluding his task, he approached the fountain in a hopeless attempt to remove the grease stains from his hands. His appearance was horrible, and he noticed that he would have to go back to the suite to have lunch and groom before the round of meetings in the afternoon.

That's when he saw her.

She wore a light blue striped dress and a simple raw hat. In each hand she carried packages that looked uncomfortable and heavy. Apparently, the girl had not noticed his presence because she walked with her gaze fixed on the African division.

At that moment, Kylo Ren remembered his meeting the previous afternoon and cursed himself.

Not only had he burst into the kitchen with little delicacy, causing the vase explode on the floor, but his attempt at kindness had been terribly misinterpreted as an extremely obscene gesture.

No, he wasn’t that monster.

Sooner or later, the French would understand.

He weighed his options briefly, oscillating between ignoring her and offering help.

Maybe he could give it a second chance. Anyway, they were going to the same place, _right?_ There was nothing strange about that.

The words came out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"Can I help you load the packages?," offered.

Too late, he realized that his torso was almost bare and covered with grease and sweat. She shook her head. He insisted.

"I'm going to the manor anyway."

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, the girl fell silent again and continued on her way as if he really weren’t there.

"At least you could be kind enough to decline the offer," he said, now offended.

She did not even deign to look at him.

 _Pathetic idiot_ , Ren thought, watching her astounded from the square.

As if his self-deprecation was not enough, Hux's unpleasant laughter rose up behind him through the noises of the street.

"Maybe he has some trick to teach you yet, Ren" he said in German, referring to their conversation the day before. "Although I'd love to see locals pounding you on with shopping bags."

"Go back to work, _Major_  ," he said, emphasizing his rank. "Oh, and by the way, they are waiting for you in the mayor's office to notify you about your new lodging."

"Lodging?" Hux asked, visibly confused.

Kylo Ren didn’t say anymore and went back to his car.

 _Let the redhead discovered the news on his own_ , he mocked.

Replacing his uniform, he gestured to his driver.

Once in the car, he noticed –reluctantly- that the taste of revenge was overshadowed by a feeling of anger that had nothing to do with Hux.

The determination was beginning to take shape in his mind.

Under no circumstances would he talk to _her_ again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tips:
> 
> -The "ideal" [German Soldier ](https://goo.gl/images/dJHi9K).
> 
> -[Panzer](https://goo.gl/images/YZzGdq).


	5. Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you!  
> thank you for getting on board this ship!
> 
> This chapter has less action, but it lays the foundations of the plot. From here, things will become more interesting, I promise ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

The Lieutenant Colonel went into the  _suite_ with a loud slam of the door behind him. Clearly, his behavior was inflicting the rules of decorum, but at this point he didn’t care anymore.

The events of that day had been raising his hackles up, until leaving nothing but anger and frustration. If everyone in that damn country insisted on treating him like a monster, maybe he would show them that he could become one.

As an irrevocable sentence, his father's last words echoed in his ears.

“If you cross that threshold,” he had said, dirty hands anchored to the bars of the detention center, “you will lose yourself forever.”

At that time, his internal conflict was tearing him apart, and his own pain had pushed him to take a terrible decision. Without looking back, he had left Han Solo's cell, knowing that this meant condemning his father to death.

Now, those events marked a point of no return.

He had reasons, of course. But now, with the passage of time, none of that excuses seemed to justify his terrible acts. Despite the promotion, the decorations and the power he had reached, he was sure that the memory of Han Solo would haunt him wherever he went.

But he had given everything he had to the cause.

Had not they promised that the conflict would disappear? That leaving his father behind would free him from the chains of the past?

None of that had worked.

Today, more than ever, the consequences of his actions had divided his spirit.

At the front, he rarely had time to think about the past. But if he was going to stay there for a long time, he was sure that sooner or later the silence of the house would make him go crazy.

As he frantically walked around the room, the _suite_  echoed his pain. Blinded by anger and overwhelmed by the weight of guilt, he swept the contents of the desk to the floor. 

Instantly, the papers flew lazily through the air and the inkwell exploded on the carpet. The sound of shattering glass brought him back to reality. Perhaps, it was fortunate that the studio contained no more objects. 

He sighed audibly, watching the mess and cursing himself for his outburst.  Leaning back in a chair, he slid both hands through his hair, trying to focus.

He needed a distraction to keep his emotions from guiding him. 

Perhaps, a small and unspeakable part of him, had hoped that things would be different in France. Beyond brief interactions with his comrades of the _Wehrmacht_  -mediated by the training and the military hierarchies-, he had long avoided any kind of personal contact outside of his professional life.

So, he realized an awkward truth.

Without friends and without family, Kylo Ren was deeply and completely  _alone_.

The presence of that feeling was raw, but it was not a novelty in his life. His parents, prominent members of the European upper class, had been too busy to hang out with him, and, when he was old enough to elude nannies, his world had focused on literature.

At that time, he had been eager to devour anything that fell into his hands: history books, fiction, non-fiction, and even essays. The vast Organa-Solo library had become a refuge and salvation for him misunderstood loneliness.

Instinctively, he turned to observe the empty library.

Of course, he reasoned, the Mansion's books weren’t here. Probably, Mrs. Holdo will keep them together with the rest of the objects that were missing in the room.

Standing up, he left the study with a determined step. She would not be in a position to refuse, he thought. Although he did not like the prospect of treating his hostess, he was willing to do more than that in order to elude that relentless whirlwind of emotions.

After descending the staircase loudly -something that was becoming a habit- he found his hostess in the dining room behind the lounge while she ate lunch. The place was decorated just like the rest: walls covered in paper, quality furniture and the unmistakable touch of sobriety that distinguished the _being_ from _pretending to be_. Everything in that house had the same spirit printed on it, he thought. Dignity, pride and status.

 

When the Lieutenant Colonel greeted her with a rattle of his boots on the threshold, a shadow of fury crossed the woman's face. Surely, she had heard every detail of his tantrum on the top floor.

“Good evening Madame," he said, at once. “I would need you to give me access to the library.”

The woman emphasized her exasperation by placing the cutlery on the plate with an audible clatter. 

For a moment, she seemed determined to refuse, until she thought better of it. She was a proud woman, but she clearly knew when to retire. 

Without looking at him or ask a single question, she searched into her right pocket and took out a silver key that she placed on the table, near the Lieutenant Colonel.

After that, Kylo Ren bowed briefly and left the room.

\---

Once in the study, he quickly located the closed trunk that stood silently next to the empty library. After opening the lock, he discovered that it was filled with a lot of books, delicately packaged in pieces of cloth.

Most were classic French literature, although there were also others about aviation and military history.

Immediately,  _Le loup des steppes_  caught his attention.

It had been his favorite book before he left his parents' house, but since Hermann Hesse's writings were strictly forbidden by the German government, he had not had a chance to read it back.

He slid his index finger through the initials "G.H." etched on the cover, thoughtfully.

No one would control him closely here.

Without doubting it again, he placed the tome on the desk and closed the trunk under key.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

"Have you talked to him?" Rey whispered to her friend, as they were hanging clothes in the back garden. The day was coming to an end and the sun was beginning to set on the horizon.

“Who? ” Jess answered, distracted.

“You know ... The soldier," she said, with a snort of impatience.

“Of course I’m not! Do you imagine me as a dirty collaborationist?” answered wryly. “Fortunately, he wasn’t predisposed to interact with me either. Last night I had to bring his dinner to the studio. He did not even thank me. And you?”

“No, of course not, "she said, with a high note in her voice. It was a half truth, but, luckily, Jess did not seem to notice. “He's… _strange_ , don’t you think?

“That depends on what you consider ‘regular’. If you mean that it does not have the typical features ...”

-“No, it's not that, "she hastened to say. “Something like ... I do not know, I thought everyone would look like murderous sadists. He seemed ... somewhat… more polite.”

Jess interrupted her task, looking at her severely.

“He is an invader, " she said harshly. “The fact that he knows our language does not change that. It is dangerous. Don’t interact with him, under no circumstance.”

In spite of herself, Rey blushed. Suddenly, her friend's words filled her chest with guilt and shame. She had not spoken to him, but clearly their encounters had not been entirely innocent ... And she had also dreamed him, in ways that were not very decorous for a lady.

Deep down, she began to suspect that, perhaps, she  _wanted to_  talk to him.

 _Stop it,_ she censured herself. She wasn’t ready to process that thought now. Afraid that her friend would read the guilt written on her face, she decided to change the subject.

“Regarding the danger ... Jess, we have to talk, " Rey said, lowering her voice again. “I woke up last night and you were not there. Please, do not deny it. I heard you arrive, and it was after midnight. Why do you expose yourself like this? What are you doing?”

“This conversation? Again?” the girl gave her a snort of exasperation as she waved the white sheets. “Rey, the Germans will be able to invade my country, but they will not control my personal… _affairs_.”

“What kind of _affairs_?”

“It's none of your business”

“Of course! Like it or not, I care about you.”

“But you don’t have to do it. I'm older and I know how to take care of myself.”

With a sudden movement, the girl took the basket and turned towards the Mansion.

Rey sighed, resigned. Jessica wouldn’t speak, and that attitude increased her suspicions. She could no longer pretend that it was a simple _affair_. It was about something more serious and she was willing to find out, even if she had to take extreme measures.

While she was returning to the kitchens, Maz pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Girl, here you are, " she said hurriedly. “The dinner is ready. Jessica is serving Madame, so ...” With a gesture, she pointed to the tray on the table.

Rey swallowed audibly. For a few moments, she considered the possibility of refusing. However, that would force her to babble excuses that would alert the wise woman. Maz could be old, but she had a sharp instinct to read people and situations. 

Besides, Jess was right about something: if  _he_  would live under the same roof as her, she couldn’t allow him to turn her life upside down.

With determination -and trying to ignore the knot on her chest- Rey took the tray and climbed the stairs into the study.

The door was closed. She approached close enough, trying to perceive any sound or a flash of light that revealed his presence. 

Nothing. 

He had left?

She knocked one, twice, but nobody answered. Emboldened, she turned the handle carefully and poked her head slightly. 

The study was dark and empty.

With relief, she quickly entered and placed the tray on the desk. It was full of scrambled papers and a bottle of ink was shattered on the floor.

What had happened here?

She searched around the room looking for clues, but everything else was perfectly empty and tidy.

Then she saw it. On the chair, a small volume with golden letters caught her attention.

_Le loup des steppes._

Rey took it with delicacy, caressing the letters with the index finger. The initials "G.H." greeted her on the cover.

Instinctively, she turned her head to the closed trunk that housed her little treasures. Her heart skipped a beat when she understood.

 _Not this_  , she thought.  _Do not take this away from me, too._

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

That night, the Lieutenant Colonel decided to go out and have a drink at the local pub before the curfew.

His bad temper lingered like clouds after the storm, but at least, now he was able to merge with the soldiers.

The pub was crowded with Germans and a festive atmosphere cheered the place. Except for the owner and his family, who looked at the clientele with fear and hostility, there did not seem to be any French there. Of course, he reasoned, locals would avoid crossing with them even if it meant locking themselves in their homes.

When the Lieutenant Colonel crossed the threshold, the soldiers stood up. Some delayed a bit in doing so, and it was evident that most were making a great effort to stay upright.

 _By now, they must have drunk more than enough_ , he though.

However, he couldn’t admonish them for their behavior. Ren knew from experience that some occasionally pleasures were indispensable to keep attrition and madness at bay.

His division had fought since the beginning of the war and had participated in the Battle of Paris. For them, veterans who knew the trench, the occupation was a kind of holiday prize. With a slight gesture, the Lieutenant instructed the troop to rest, and immediately returned to submerge in the bustle.

Kylo Ren approached the counter and ordered a beer. Of course, one of the conditions of the Nazi occupation was that the French should adopt the German currency. When the innkeeper brought his order, he deposited a few imperial frames on the table. The man looked at the money, reluctant, but then put it in the box.

While he was drinking from his glass, Major Hux appeared behind him.

“What a surprise!" he said scornfully. “ _Herr Ren_  comes to blend for a drink.”

“How's your new accommodation, Major?” He answered without looking at her. Beside him, he could sense that the redhead's good humor was transformed into the boiling of contained anger.

“The  _hut_  in the middle of the field will be fine, " he finally said. “At least there I found women more willing to ...  _collaborate_. What about the Mansion? I don’t think you're so lucky.”

-“Watch your steps, Hux,” He warned, with calm voice and his gaze still fixed on her beer. “Any slip and I'll have to report it to the General Staff.”

“I do not remember that the friendly exchange is punishable.” Then he added, even lower: "However, I will not forget this, Ren. Maybe you remember that I know your dirty secrets.”

Abruptly, the Lieutenant Colonel released his glass, sat up and looked at him threateningly. His height overshadowed Hux, who seemed to shrink a bit.

“And I remind _you_ that it was Snoke himself who ordered you to close your dirty mouth, "he hissed. “I'd be happy to reveal it myself if that meant taking away your stupid attitude of sufficiency.”

Hux looked at him for a moment, his gaze full of hatred, and then went back to his table of butt-kissers. The Lieutenant Colonel remained impassive. He was not going to let that creep intimidated him today. 

Once the redhead had disappeared into the crowd he returned to his chair and lit a cigarette calmly, while looking around the tavern distractedly. Hux and General Snoke were the only ones who knew his real name. _Ben Solo_ , the son of the renowned French ambassador and a famous English smuggler. Despite the liberal and democratic orientation that his parents had defended all their life, little Ben had entered adolescence fascinated by the National Socialist German Workers' Party. His maternal grandfather had been a prominent general of Bismarck’s Imperium, a legacy that both Leia Organa and his uncle Luke had wanted to eradicate.

When the young Solo had escaped from his home to join the new government that was consolidated after the 1933 coup, he had been forced to change his identity -  _that_   _It stank of Republic_ , Snoke had said- by Kylo Ren.

From then on, the truth about its origins had been silenced in order to allow its rise within the ranks of the Nazi party. However, Ren's loyalty to the regime had been put to the test again and again. Even after the death of Han Solo.

In hindsight, it seemed that it would never be enough.

With an agile movement, he emptied the content of his glass and finished the cigarette. The curfew would sound soon and it was better to set an example. He threw some more frames of tip to the innkeeper and left the pub.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

When the Mercedes Benz parked next to the manor, Kylo Ren dismissed the driver with a slight nod and went into the house. The curfew had sounded a few minutes ago and it seemed that the women of the house had already gone up to their rooms.

But He wasn’t sleepy yet. The night was warm and calm and he decided to take a stroll through the beautiful gardens of Mrs. Holdo.

After lighting one of the cigars that Montpellier had given him that morning, he observed the facade in detail. The windows remained closed and no light filtered outside. However, the brightness of a full moon was enough to see clearly.

The walls looked a bit unpainted and the ceiling lacked maintenance, but, in general, the Mansion did justice to the social status of her owner. Here and there, some vines climbed merrily and the smell of roses and iris filled the air.

As he circumnavigated the perimeter, the hiss of the branches waving, followed by a sharp thud, caught his attention. He stopped his foots and, after listening carefully for a moment, identified the source of the sound near a vine that covered much of the rear facade. His military instinct told him there was someone there.

Cautiously, so that his prey wouldn’t escape, Kylo Ren approached silently, drawing the Luger pistol from his right hip.

Had he surprised a thief? Or was it just some nocturnal cat?

When he was close enough, the bush shook again. With dexterity and speed, he ran the branches using his left hand and aiming the target with his right.

“ _Wer ist da !?”_ he barked.

Instantly, the moonlight leaked, revealing a person crouching on the ground. The figure froze silently, facing him. At that distance, Ren could not identify the stranger clearly, so he took it from the wrist and pushed it closer to met its gaze.

When he could see clearly, he shocked. A hazel-eyed woman stared back at him. Her hair was messy and her bedding was encrusted with twigs from the vine. He noticed that they were so close that, for a few seconds, he could see how the expression of her prey was transfigured from fear to anger and contempt.

 _Damn it,_ he thought as soon as he recognized her.

It was her,  _again_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Tips: 
> 
>  
> 
> \- _Le loup de steppes_ (Steppenwolf, in english) is the tenth novel by German-Swiss author Hermann Hesse, published in Germany in 1927.
> 
> -[Otto von Bismarck](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otto_von_Bismarck#/media/File:Bundesarchiv_Bild_146-2005-0057,_Otto_von_Bismarck.jpg) , was a conservative Prussian statesman who dominated German and European affairs from the 1860s until 1890 and was the architect of the German Empire between 1871 and 1890.
> 
> \- [Mercedes Benz](https://goo.gl/images/52ksfm) used by the Officers and the High Command.
> 
> \- [Luger P08 pistol](https://goo.gl/images/nmD3oP).
> 
> \- _“Wer ist da !?”_ means "Who's there?" in German.


	6. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you! Thanks to the comments and kudos that you have been leaving, I felt inspired to finish translating the last chapters without publishing and, officially, now i can say that we have already reached the Spanish version. That means that, from now on, I will be updating once a week, if everything goes well.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you again for your support! it means a lot to me! I would also like to hear your suggestions / opinions / complaints about the story, in order to improve it in the future.
> 
> Now, Enjoy!

That night the German curfew sounded again.

But, of course, that wouldn’t stop Jessica.

As she had done in the past few months, once Rey pretended to be asleep, she slid slowly out of bed and opened the attic window without making a single sound.

A few minutes after the girl disappeared, her friend sat up.

With stealth, Rey approached the threshold and drew back the curtain to spy on the gardens. Night covered the sky, but the full moon shone bright enough to allow her to watch the scene. At the time her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she caught sight of her friend disappearing into the bush.

Her belly writhed nervously. She hadn’t had much time to come up with a plan, but she knew that this was a unique opportunity: The Madame had gone to bed early and the _guest_ hadn’t yet returned to the Mansion. However, surely the Lieutenant would return at any time. So, if she wanted to find Jessica, she should hurry.

Putting one leg out of the window, and with the other still anchored in the attic, Rey felt with her hand the thick branches of the vine that covered that side of the facade. She found a safe point of support and, with audacity, improvised an agile and calculated jump. Instantly her entire body was in the open, clinging firmly to the plant that hugged the wall. She closed the window -leaving a chink to re-enter later, as Jess always do-and began to descend slowly stretching the limbs one by one.

When she has a few meters left to reach the floor, the branch that was holding her finally cracked under the girl’s weight, causing her to fall to the lawn with a thud.

A sting of pain went through the leg she had landed on. Holding the breath, Rey bit her hand to keep from screaming as she crawled around the bushes. Probably it was not serious damage, but her right thigh throbbed with fury and she wanted to make sure she was able to continue on her way.

Then, everything happened so fast that she barely had time to process it. 

First, the sound of hurried footsteps and, at once, the bush disappeared violently, letting in the moonlight and outlining the silhouette of a man.

Rey froze.

She had been trapped.

_“Wer ist da !?“_ barked the intruder.

She didn’t understand what the phrase meant, but the accent of the language was clear. She remained silent, terrified, while her mind galloped at full speed trying to plot a plan. Now she had been discovered by the enemy, she had no idea how to justify her situation. The curfew had sounded for a while and she had no reason to walk around the gardens.

A gloved hand interrupted her thought, grabbing her by the wrist and forcing her body to sit up. The bruised leg complained sharply as tried to focus on identify her captor.

The unmistakable features of the Lieutenant Colonel, slightly illuminated by the lunar glow, stared back at her. His eyes hadn’t no traces of kindness that time, but a menacing expression that made him look almost like a predator. In his right hand, he held a silver gun that pointed directly at her chest.

Rey was paralyzed with terror.

She cursed herself for being so reckless. How couldn’t she have foreseen this situation? Would he be able to murder her there, _in the garden_ , in cold blood?

Suddenly, the man shocked. Maybe, he had recognized her finally.

With a jump, he moved a few inches away from her face. The predatory expression relaxed briefly, softening the grip on her wrist, but not releasing it yet. Slowly, he pointed the gun up and began to holster it on his hip, to show that he hadn’t intentions to hurt her.

Rey released the breath she had been holding.

“What are you doing here, out of bed after the curfew?” He demanded in French. 

Even though his voice had softened, it still had a threatening and authoritative nuance. Rey didn’t utter words; now focus on trying to get out of his grip, without success.

Who was he to hold her?

“Answer me!” He insisted, waving her wrist in the air. By all accounts, he was running out of patience. “You know who I am. You know that I can take whatever I want. I won’t ask again.”

Then, he let her go. Rey stepped back two inches, teeth clenched, projecting every bit of hate on her face. Her eyes itched, suddenly flooded with tears of frustration barely retained.

This time she had no escape. She was going to have to answer him, make up a silly excuse, and probably he will take her prisoner anyway.

What would happen to Jess then? Would they discover it too?

Her mind continued to run at full speed as she shuffled her options. The adrenaline of the situation had made her momentarily forget the pain in her leg, and now she was standing in front of the invader with determination.

Feeling the blood running frantically through her veins, she opened her mouth to speak.

Time was running out.

She was condemned.

Before a word came out of her throat, a female voice caught their attention:

“What's going on here?” Said Mrs. Holdo holding a lantern and wrapped in fine bedclothes. Her voice sounded imposing and authoritative, and for a moment, Rey swore she had embraced her.

"Madame," Ren said, tilting his head, suddenly remembering his manners. “I was returning to the Mansion and I heard your _employee_ wandering around the gardens. The curfew…”

"I know what the curfew is, Lieutenant Colonel," she said, addressing him for the first time. The guest did not seem very pleased with the interruption and squeezed his teeth visibly. “I sent the girl to look for herbs for my  _headache,_  "she continued, emphasizing the last word. “If I remember correctly, the curfew does not prevent us from circulating freely in our homes, right?”

Rey was silent. The Madame was putting together an excellent explanation that left few options for discussion to the Lieutenant Colonel. The man's anger was increasingly, but it turned out that his hostess had a point. Technically, Rey wasn’t violating the curfew if she was circulating within the perimeter of the property.

However, he looked at her suspiciously. His eyes wandered from Madame to Rey, not bothering to hide his suspicions. For a moment it seemed like he was going to reply, but then he inclined his head in a conciliatory gesture.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, Madame. I was not informed of the situation. Of course, the curfew is to take care of the welfare of the locals, "he said, and Rey could have sworn that Mrs. Holdo rolled her eyes back. “In fact, given the extension of your property, I think it would be convenient for you to add more protection to your home after curfew. I will make sure that it is so. Goodnight.”

The implied threat of the Lieutenant Colonel floated in the air. However, Mrs. Holdo was not intimidated. With a weary gesture, she nodded and then turned to the young woman.

"Let's go inside, girl," she said, throwing her a meaningful look.

Of course, Madame would lecture her later, but now Rey had time enough to make an excuse. However, as they entered the Mansion escorted by the Lieutenant, she prayed silently so that no one would notice Jessica's absence.

Once in the lobby, the women climbed the stairs to their rooms under the watchful eye of the guest. When Mrs. Holdo had disappeared behind the door, Rey gave one last look at the Lieutenant Colonel from the landing.

He briefly held her gaze, a warning written on his severe expression. Then, he broke eye contact and walked away towards the kitchens.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

Jessica and Poe met again in the abandoned cottage, as they had agreed the night before. This time, it was a less crowded and more discreet meeting, since the objective was to draw up plans to start organizing the Resistance.

Jess was enthralled about Poe's experience and knew that she had also made a good impression on the rebel too. In fact, the connection between them had flowed quickly, as if they had known each other all their lives.

Jessica was direct and did not hesitate to express what she thought, and Poe had been accessible and willing to consider everything she had to say. Also, he seemed to know about everything and his charisma could be particularly useful in convincing locals.

When the man began to inform her of his ties to the PCF and the Resistance, Jess felt hopeful. With some cleverness, she thought, they could get resources and organize a common front against the enemy. That night, they had agreed to meet to begin discussing an action plan.

"It is important that we keep the people informed about the situation of the Resistance and Paris," said Poe, putting out his cigar in the ashtray. “For that, we have begun to print some pamphlets in clandestine workshops that we can distribute among the sympathizers.  I estimate that they will be ready for the next weeks. However, we have to be careful; they cannot fall into the wrong hands.”

“And what about the meetings?” Jess interjected. “We cannot suspend them.”

“Of course not. But it has to be more spaced. Once the Nazis have effective control of the population and access the Bussy land registers, it will not be so easy to escape control. Currently, we can enjoy more freedom because they are very busy organizing the occupation, but this will end soon.”

“And how can we distribute the pamphlets?”

“I propose that we use the common networks. Do you know about other French in town who are dissatisfied?” He asked, and Jess nodded briefly. 

  
Would it be wise to get Rey into this? The young girl was still naive, but Jess had to admit that she was old enough to make her own decision.   
Unable to come to a conclusion at that moment, Jess put aside the thought to analyze it later.

 

“We could camouflage pamphlets in the ration boxes if we had access to the deposit. We would start with a small print run, if there are people of confidence willing to help us.”

 

"There are some service women I know in other manors" Jessica said thoughtfully. “The aristocracy and the Germans do not usually pay too much attention of our presence and we could organize a small network of espionage.”

"That's great Jess," Poe congratulated. “Which brings us to other feature about the plan. For some years, the German government began to implement a ruthless policy against the Jews. We do not know exactly what happens to them, but many families have been forced to migrate and others have disappeared.”

"And now they brought their dirty racist politics here," she said scornfully. “I saw the pamphlets that hit the city. They want to transform the Jews into the scapegoat.”

"Exactly," Poe went on. “That is why many flee from Paris and seek refuge in the villages of the countryside’s. Our idea is to manufacture false identifications and ration cards for them. However, we need to have access to the bureaucratic forms that they employ here.”

"Sure! I can do that. We have a Lieutenant Colonel at home," she said excitedly. “He has the study desk full of reports and forms. Maybe I can steal some.”

“That would be great, but you must be careful. We can plan it with time. Anyway, we have not yet received large contingents in this area, but I'm sure more will come.”

"Leave it to me," the girl replied, smiling at Poe with confidence. “He will not know I've been there.”

Poe returned her the smile and they go back to submerge on the details of the plan.

That night, Jess returned to the Mansion happier than usual. She liked to feel useful, to do something to stop so many injustices. Maybe it was not a direct confrontation, but she was sure that, over time, they could move towards more aggressive strategies.

Her mind traveled to her parents, who died some years ago and had seen the Great War. Since she could remember, the Pava family had lived in and had defended, generation after generation, the French soil.

  
Decided, she pressed the bronze medal that cradled in her hand. It was a relic inherited from his father, a decoration for his heroic resistance on the battle of Somme.

 

“I’m never going to give up, dad,” she whispered.

 

If there was one thing Jessica was certain about that night, it was that she would defend her country until her last breath.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

The next day, the corporal who had appeared at the Mansion after the arrival of the Lieutenant Colonel, knocked on the door.

"Second Sturm, Madam," he said in a badly spoken French, but with warmth. “My superior instructed me to provide custody service in his house. Of course, do not worry about me; I'll sleep in the stables outside.”

Madame Holdo did not bother to hide her displeasure at the situation. Without even nodding, she snorted and practically slammed the door in his face.

That morning, when the Mercedes Benz had disappeared along the way, she had reprehended Rey in the kitchens.

"Whatever you were doing last night, do not ever repeat it," she said angrily. “You have put this honorable house in a bind. I will not interfere again.”

“Yes ma’am. I'm sorry, I…”

"Save your excuses," she hissed, curtly.

Rey thought she caught a glimpse of understanding and cunning on Madam’s face. As if, really, she had known from the beginning that she was plotting to escape.   
Suddenly, a thought burst in her mind.

Did she know that Jess was sneaking away every night?

 

_Thank God_ , last night she had made sure no one corroborated her partner's presence in the room.

 

Be that as it may, Rey decided that it was best to nod docilely and not ask. The Madame left the kitchens and did not mention the matter again.

 

\---

 

From then on, the corporal began to appear in the gardens of the Mansion every day, minutes before the curfew.

 

Although his presence meant they were being watched, at least it seemed to stop Jess to running away, who - suspiciously - did not bother to ask why the hell there was a man beaming under her window every night.

 

The next week passed without too many surprises, and that gave her a break. It seemed that both she and the Lieutenant Colonel had given in to an unspoken agreement to cross each other as little as possible.

 

In the mornings, he would leave the Mansion while they ate breakfast, without even saying hello. During noon, Rey traveled on her bicycle to the village store to buy some rations and, on the way back, the elegant Mercedes Benz passed by at full speed, leaving her behind in a cloud of suffocating dust. As he passed away, his silhouette was barely visible on the back seat.

 

And, of course, he never turned to look at her.

 

By the time Rey finally returned to the Mansion, the Lieutenant Colonel was already locked himself in his office, and when the curfew sounded, he simply moved to his room without interacting with anyone.

 

Day by day that routine was repeated, with some variations: sometimes, the guest did not come back to the suite until nightfall. Others, he left a few hours before the curfew -a walk through the local tavern, surely- and returned after the warning sounded.

 

On the other hand, Rey had been taciturn and distant after the incident. First of all, she was really mad at Jessica. The stubbornness of her friend had not only been the trigger of the whole affair, but also, she didn’t seem to bother after the appearance of the soldier who watched the gardens at night.

 

Rey hadn’t made her aware of what had happened. It would have involved explaining why she had left the room in the first place, and did not want to argue with her friend again. However, it was clear that her actions had put both in danger, and it annoyed her not to be aware of the reason of her behavior.

 

For worse, Mrs. Holdo had endeavored to assign them more strict schedules and monitor their entrances and exits from the Mansion. Thus, the freedom with which Rey had enjoyed of her free time in the outside was seriously threatened. Frequent summer activities, such as swimming in the lake or walking in the forest, were now refused to her.

 

Despite this, what had affected her badly was losing access to the study library. Now, the only key of the trunk was in the hands of the _damned_ guest, and even in her wildest dreams she would not risk herself to have another encounter with him. Each night, she mentally reviewed the stories she had read in order to amuse herself, altering the details and inventing alternative endings, until the fatigue took her.

 

The nightmares didn’t stop either.

 

The incident had revealed another facet of the Lieutenant Colonel, terrible and scary. The memory of his grip, the menacing expression on his face and the ease with which his weapon could have put an end to her life, had been proof enough of the beast that lived in him.

  
Jess's warning came to her mind often. 

 

_He is an invader, do not forget that._

 

Of course, how naive she had been!

 

The thought made her felt disgusted with herself and, often, she had swore that she would never look at him again. Thank heaven, Madame Holdo had especially entrusted Jessica with the task of bringing lunch and dinner to her office, and during the first few days, Rey was really grateful for the change.

 

But then, when her determination gave way, she relived the moment when he had called her attention that day in the square. Or his devouring gaze, in the kitchens, when the vase had been broken down.

 

Back then, Rey thought that she had found a glimpse of goodness there.

 

Was it just a facade? Could they coexist in a person?

 

The lack of response to these questions was, definitely, overflowing the drop of the glass. The cocktail of emotions made her distant, irritable and extremely withdrawn all the week.

 

Each day, she did her labor in silence, speaking the bare minimum with the woman on the house. Instead of spending time with Maz or her friend, in her spare time she had simply reclined on the bed, trying to bring order to her chaotic thoughts.

 

However, at the end of the day, more than once she had caught herself looking for excuses to walk by the hallway of the suite, spying on the rays of light that filtered under the door and hearing his footsteps on the wooden floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tips:
> 
> \- _"Wer ist da!?"_ means "Who's there?"
> 
> \- [Resistance pamphlets](https://goo.gl/images/FC5aCw)
> 
> \- [Nazi Anti-Jewish propaganda](https://goo.gl/images/UqV3fh)
> 
> -[ coupon rationing](https://goo.gl/images/XTvyc3) (I only got a picture of Germany, but I'm sure the French should be similar)
> 
> \- [ Somme Battle Medal](https://goo.gl/images/GDh4rP). The Battle of Somme was fought by the armies of the British Empire and France against the German Empire. It took place between 1 July and 18 November 1916 on both sides of the upper reaches of the River Somme in France. The battle was intended to hasten a victory for the Allies and was the largest -and bloodiest- battle of the First World War on the Western Front.
> 
> \- Caporal Sturm would look like [ this](https://goo.gl/images/wtmas1)
> 
> \- [ French bicycles](https://goo.gl/images/s8JEPo)


	7. Rey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you!
> 
>  
> 
> This has been a hasty update, I hope it doesn't contain several mistakes. Throughout the week, I will add some historical footnotes at the end.
> 
> ANYWAY, from here, the chapters will be longer and will contain a good dose of Reylo. I hope you enjoy it ;).
> 
> Important: In this chapter some characters will hold openly racist positions. Of course, it is about recreating a climate of time and not the author's personal opinions.

When the morning light shined in, Finn woke up in the barn with aching back. It had been a week since _Herr_ Ren had entrusted him with guarding the Manor, and although the task wasn’t the most unpleasant job, it meant spending most of the night awake.

 

The moment he stood up and stretched his limbs, the horse that shared the room with him neighed, nervously.

"Calm down, boy," he said softly, stroking him in the back. "Quiet".

Of course, Madame Holdo hadn’t offered him a stay as comfortable as the Lieutenant Colonel's. His own _suite_ was a room built with wooden planks, and the soldier was forced to improvise a kind of straw mattress in the barn, while his few belongings had been deposited in a corner of the stable.

The animal relaxed to the touch. Maybe, that was the only positive part of his job. Finn loved horses, and this one was especially friendly, if a little restless. He picked up a bundle of forage and offered it to his new friend, who did not hesitate to devour it by snapping his tail happily.

When the boy had finished with his morning routine, he stretched again and went to the town to request his supplies. Outside, it was another day of abrasive heat in Bussy, and the summer sun did not seem to give way. Anyway, Finn did not complain. Compared to the hell he had lived in the trenches, the stay in France was a true paradise.

He crossed the gardens of the Manor into the road that led to the village and passed by the two service women who tended the clothes. One was very old and the other had black hair, loose on her back. Finn greeted them with a slight nod, but none of them returned the gesture.

Why would they do it, anyway? He was just an invader.

Whistling softly, he continued another stretch to the wooded path that led to the village of Bussy along the main road, immersed on his own thoughts.

Despite the _Reich_ ’s propaganda and _Wehrmacht’s_ indoctrination, the proud and obstinate temper with which the French endured the invasion aroused his sympathy. After all, Finn hadn’t joined the army because of his personal convictions, but rather, his instinct for survival.

When he reached full age, his father, a reputed white General of Germany, died suddenly. Until then, _Herr_ Sturm had not had much contact with his son, probably because of his mulatto descent. But  some time later, the young man discovered that his father had secured a place in the  _Wehrmacht_  for him before he died  _._  Some members of the High Command had objected to his entry but, finally, a small unit had been organized in order to include  _black loyal soldiers_ like him. Of course, the arrangement was skillfully publicized by the government, who made sure to use it as an example of the regime's _humanitarianism_.

But Finn wasn’t fooled. It was obvious that people like him would never be free in Hitler’s Germany. Black men were forbidden to marry or contract relationships with white women, at the risk of being sterilized; they couldn’t occupy public positions; they couldn’t even play music or listen to jazz openly. Clearly, German greatness was a promise forbidden to them.

 _Only disposable tools_ , he thought with disgust. His white comrades of the  _Wehrmacht_  were in charge of reminding him day after day.

After advancing a few kilometers, a figure stopped at the side of the road interrupted his musings. From distance he couldn’t distinguish it in more detail, except that it seemed to be sitting among the pastures and half-veiled by the vegetation of the path. Instinctively, Finn took his fusil and held the Mauser with both hands as he approached.

When his eyes could watch the scene clearly, he let his guard down: it was a woman, sprawled on the grass and leaning slightly forward. Beside her, her shoes were scattered merrily across the meadow along with what appeared to be a bicycle bent at a strange angle.

Her face was hidden behind her hands. Was it his imagination or was she crying? Striding, the soldier approached, until she was aware of his presence.

She wore a simple dress and her hair combed in three disordered bunches. Hearing him approach, she wiped her face –blushed and cover with tears- and hurriedly put on her shoes. In that moment, Finn recognized her: it was the young woman who worked at the Manor, the one who had returned him the greeting a week ago.

“Miss, are you okay? What happened?” He hastened to ask, in French.

The young woman didn’t look at him, but shook her head with a negative gesture. There was no one else at sight and, judging by the lack of dust in the air, no car had circulated around in the short term. She didn’t seem seriously hurt, but immediately he noticed that her hands were holding one of her bare ankles. The joint exhibited an alarming red tinge and had begun to swell noticeably. Then, he looked at the bicycle that lay on the floor, carelessly. The pieces settled on his head.

“Mmhm ... you had fell, right?” He said cautiously.

The girl nodded, while she pressed her lips and blushed.

“It’s ok, it usually happens,” he said to alleviate her shame. “Once I fell in a lake, with bicycle included. Imagine what it took my mother to get it out of there”

She looked up and stared at him. A shadow of a smile crossed her features and Finn decided it was his chance.

“Look, if you want, do not talk to me and I'll understand. But let me help you. Or, at least, let me get help. Do you want me to notify you at the Manor?”

She shook her head, more energetically now. Then, tried to sit up, but when she added weight to her left foot, let out a moan of pain and landed again on the grass.

“Don’t do that! It will get worse,” he said as he stretched a hand towards her. Then he thought better, and left it suspended in midair halfway, in a conciliatory gesture. “You probably have a twisted ankle. If you allow me, I could hold you and help you walk.”

He ventured the phrase in a casual tone, but sure that she would refuse. Since childhood, Finn had become accustomed to abuse or indifference based solely on the color of his skin. On many occasions throughout his short life, people had stared at him, as if he had escaped from a zoo.

However, against his expectations, she didn’t seem displaced by his offer. In fact, she lifted her head and met his gaze, weighing her options, with no trace of judgment on her eyes.

 _As if there were no differences between us_ , Finn thought fleetingly.

When the girl nodded briefly, the shock was such that for a minute he froze, while his brain processed what was happening. Then, a wave of triumph grew on his chest.

Before he could even answer, the sound of a motor coming up the road paralyzed them both.

Instantly, a Mercedes Benz appeared along the path, advancing at full speed.

 _An officer_ , Finn thought.

The scene did not bode well for him. The officers had given strict orders to his division not to interact with anyone else. He could be reprimanded. However, at this point the soldier couldn’t leave her there, at the mercy of his superiors.

Finn stood up. By then, the girl had been visibly upset, her eyes fixed on the vehicle. When the majestic car slowed to a stop beside them on the road, she lowered her head back into her lap.

Then, three officers got off, revealing their impeccable attire in the middle of the dust.

One of them approached, while the rest watched them leaning on the hood.

Finn put himself on guard and saluted.

" _Herr Major!"_

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

The frustration, anger, and confusion that had plagued Rey all week exploded suddenly when she fell by the side of the road. Unfortunately, she had not been able to glimpse the great rock that emerged from the path in front of her.

Instantly, she shot out of the bicycle with a gasp and landed on the grass. The rations were scattered with it and the vehicle crawled a few more meters before plunging into the grasslands. A sting of pain spread through her ankle, which had been forced into an unnatural angle as she tried to break free from the bike.

Cursing, Rey sat on the grass and kicked off her shoes with fury. She had scrapes on both legs and, to make things worse, her ankle had begun to swell with alarming speed. Judging by the heat that the skin began to fire, the picture couldn’t be good. Resigned, she looked for her vehicle. It lay a few meters away, with one of the wheels still spinning merrily in the air, but irremediably damaged.

She gave a snort of indignation. Clearly, she couldn’t go home riding that, and walking wasn’t an option either.

Would she have to stay here, until someone could help her?

The feeling of helplessness that spread through her chest was the straw that broke the camel's back. Then, the dam that had been keeping her emotions at bay, finally collapsed. Unpleasant feelings -guilt, desire, frustration, anger, restlessness- that she had accumulated throughout the previous week exploded as a disconsolate crying.

Almost half an hour later, when her eyes finally began to dry, the sound of footsteps approaching drew her momentarily out of her misery. It was the corporal assigned to the Manor, stopping by her side and offering help.

Rey was still determined not to exchange words with the invaders, but the humility and empathy with which the man addressed her had won her heart. Even the brief mention of his anecdote almost made her laugh. Then, her walls began to crumble slowly.

Maybe it would not be bad to accept his help, she thought. It is not that I have other options.

Swallowing pride, she nodded briefly, accepting his offer. However, before she could say anything, the imminent arrival of the car paralyzed her. When the Mercedes Benz appeared on the road, Rey's heart skipped a beat.

It was  _him_?

It had to be. After all, he went down that road every noon.

However, Rey wasn’t ready to face the Lieutenant Colonel right now, after everything that had happened between them. Her defenses hadn’t yet recovered and she felt more vulnerable than ever. It was definitely more than she could handle now.

But when the red-haired officer approached them, with a smile of anticipation drawn on his face, she knew that her luck was even worse. Rey had watched him several times in the town and, definitely, he was not a guy she would like to meet. His glance -cold and calculating- was enough to make her hair stand on end.

He wasn’t alone, but his companions were left behind, snooping like vultures as he approached in his direction. The corporal -evidently as annoyed as she was-greeted him, and in return, the arrogant officer returned him a disdainful gesture. The young man beside her visibly tensed.

“Good morning Miss,” said, with affected manners. “Is this man bothering you?”

The question surprised Rey. However, she shook her head.

“Really?” He said, while his look was wandering around the scene, skeptical. “Give me one word and we can punich him, you know?”

“Mayor Hux, sir”, said the corporal, “I was on my way to town and ...”

“Silence , corporal! I have not given the word to you. As if his presence here was not enough to embarrass us.”

Rey's disbelief was getting more intense. Despite having no sympathy for the German army, the corporal had behaved kindly with her and she didn’t want to be the cause of any "punish".

“I'm sorry, girl,” the Major said again, focusing on her with false kindness, “you shouldn’t interact with a ...  inferior _race_. They're like animals, you know ... " He looked at the other man with deep displeasure and extended a hand to the young woman.

At these words, the corporal stiffened. A spark of anger caught Rey's chest, who looked back at the arrogant redhead with contempt. The air was so tense that it could be cut with scissors and, for a few moments that seemed an eternity, the three looked at each other in silence, measuring themselves. Rey was sure that the meeting couldn’t end well. 

But a few seconds later, the sound of another vehicle broke the tension of the moment. Everyone turned their heads into the road, while a second Mercedes was approaching at full speed.

This time, Rey was sure. It was  _him_.

Against her grief, a feeling of relief grew on her chest. In those ugly circumstances, the guest seemed a better option than the horrible redhead. Instantly, the car stopped behind the first one and the Lieutenant Colonel descended from the back seat with an unmistakable air of authority. His inquisitive gaze wandered from the Major to Rey, and from Rey to the corporal.

“ _Herr Ren!”_  All saluted, except Rey.

“What's going on here, Major?” Ren said, in French.

Then the Major began to speak quickly in German, but was severely interrupted by Ren.

“What type of incident requires your  _personal_  attention ? And what holds p or after here? Sturm has duties at the Holdo Mansion,” He said, and put his hand to the bridge of his nose as a sign of exasperation. “And I think that we have more urgent issues than dealing with the local  _domestic_  service.”

Rey was hurt by the derogatory comment, but she kept her head down. Next, the Lieutenant Colonel asked Finn something, who answered an unintelligible phrase, pointing it out to her. Ren's gaze wandered over the shattered bicycle and then landed on Rey's ankle. For a split second, she caught a glimpse of genuine concern in his frown, but it disappeared so quickly that she thought she had imagined it.

What the hell were they talking about? Were they deciding her punishment?

After talking with the corporal, the Lieutenant Colonel focused on Hux. He barked a directive, and everyone complied the order with a martial greeting.

“ _Jawohl, Oberstleutnant!”_  

When the corporal moved away, Hux approached Ren enough to exchange a few quick words in German that Rey did not understand. However, it did not seem like a friendly conversation at all. In fact, the tension between them was almost palpable. Ren remained impassive, but a flash of anger flashed on his eyes when he finally dismissed it. The redhead pressed his lips in disgust and, throwing Rey a dangerous look, finally returned to his car.

That two did not get along, she thought.

When everyone disappeared, she was left alone with him. Rey's heart quickened as she kept her gaze downcast. Lieutenant Colonel's boots were still firmly planted on the floor, as if he were evaluating her.

What the hell would he do now?

Then, the man sent orders to his driver, who was ready to load the bicycle and the rations into the car. After that, the boots disappeared from her sight.

The grip of two gloved hands that helped her to stand up surprised her from behind, a few moments later. It was a firm but slightly  _kind_  touch, with no trace of violence with which he had questioned her a week ago. 

However, Rey let out a gasp in protest.

He dares to put a hand on her without her permission?

Ignoring her rejection, the soldier helped her up, allowing her to support half of her weight on him so as not to burden the injured ankle. Divided between terror and curiosity, Rey continued nailed to the floor.

What were your intentions? Was this a deception or the prelude to an interrogation? Was he, finally, at his mercy?

“I'm taking you to the Manor,” He mumbled in French, looking annoyed. “If you could  _collaborate_ , it will be quick. Actually I'm in a hurry.”

Rey gritted her teeth, resigned. But he did not look at her, nor did he say a single word again. In fact, it was becoming evident that the situation was uncomfortable for both of them.

Maybe, he wasn’t lying. Maybe, he hadn’t some sinister ulterior motive... And, after all, she hadn’t any choice but to allow him to help her.

  
Resigned, she decided to and, instantly, her body relaxed under his touch. Gently, the Lieutenant Colonel escort her into the Mercedes Benz and, once the task was finished, Ren circumvented the car to enter from the opposite side and took a seat at her side. Quickly, he gave the order to the driver and the vehicle began to slide efficiently along the way.

Rey kept her hips by the door and the view anchored in the window for most of the way. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that her companion adopted the same behavior, in a clear effort to establish the greatest possible distance between them. Thank heaven, he also observed the landscape in silence.

After a few yards, Rey could not help but notice that the proximity of his complexion was suffocating and seemed to absorb everything. It was as if she could really feel the warmth of his body sitting next to her. The musky, neat, masculine scent that the Lieutenant emanated quickly impregnated the cabin and fanned her senses.

For an absurd, brief moment, she thought that his smell was completely _exciting_ , and something primitive and dark twisted her belly.

 _Enough_ , she admonished herself, guilty. She had to remember  _who he_  was and what he represented. Then, Rey put a hand on her nose in order to prevent his perfume from waking up unwanted sensations.

  
But damage was already done, and she could no longer restrain herself. Experimentally, she gave him a quick glance, to check that he had not detected her distress.  _Thank God_ , the man next to her continued to look at his own window, with a distracted air.

 

A little more confident now, Rey turned again to look at him, more carefully. The soldier wore the green uniform of the _Wehrmacht_ officers, riddled with the decorations according to his rank: two ribbons on his neck and a golden star on his shoulder pads indicated the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. On the right side of his broad chest shone a silver eagle that carried the Nazi swastika. A big, black cross -accompanied by what appeared to be an oak leaf- hung from his neck.

His hair had been combed back and he wore the visor cap she had seen in the square, the one that was reserved only for officers. On his thighs, his gloved fists rested, somewhat tense. In fact, Rey noticed, his figure did not seem relaxed at all, but stiff and ready to jump into action at any moment.

Abruptly, the Lieutenant Colonel shifted in his seat and interrupted her inspection. Rey started and hurried to look away, failing miserably. For an uncomfortable second, their eyes met. He cleared his throat, restless, and she blushed in front of the window.

The girl cursed herself

_What the hell was she doing?_

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

After the incident, Kylo Ren had decided to redouble his efforts to control the inhabitants of the Manor. In addition to betting corporal Sturm in the gardens, he secretly ordered some soldiers to patrol the surrounding perimeter.

However, after a week, the question remained.

What was she doing wandering around the gardens in the middle of the night?

Of course, he was not so deluded as to swallow the story of the headache. His instinct told him there was something else there, and he was willing to find out. During the last weeks, several intelligence reports assured that General De Gaulle had begun to organize a resistance movement that aspired to spread within the occupied territory. Since then, the regime had redoubled efforts to monitor the citizens of Vichy and to extirpate the rebellion at the root.

When his subordinates told him that everything seemed to be going on normally in Mrs. Holdo's house, he was not satisfied. Instead, Ren decided that he should take matters personally and be stealthy. He had no intention of stirring up the waters and attracting the attention of the High Command unnecessarily.

As a first step, he actively tried to be seen as little as possible by the women living in the Manor. In this way, it would be less obvious that he was watching them and they would probably lower their guard sooner or later. Each morning he spent a few moments spying them at breakfast and, from time to time, watched them doing their domestic chores from the study window.

The suspicious woman with hazel eyes seemed to continue her life, without even noticing him. In the afternoons, he used to cross her riding her bike on the way to the Manor. However, as he passed by, the girl never looked at him, but kept her eyes fixed on the front with pride. 

 _Damn arrogant_ , he had thought.

Although he would never admit it, more than once he had been tempted to stop the car and offer her a ride. Maybe, if he was nice, he could get something out of her. But then he was content. It was useless. She would simply ignore him, or gave another terrible look, making him look ridiculous.

The morning he saw her sitting on the side of the road, however, the situation had been different.

From the moment he spotted her, accompanied by Hux and Corporal Sturm, he had an unpleasant feeling. Nothing good could arise if the _Major_ insisted on stalking the girl or harassing the boy. Without hesitation, he had barked at his driver to hurry to park next to them.

It did not take long to read the situation. She had injured her ankle and the Major was suspiciously disappointed by Ren's arrival. Probably, his instinct was right: The redhead had cornered his prey. A wave of raw rage had gone up his chest.

This man couldn’t respect absolutely  _nothing_?

He decided that, to avoid a conflict, he had to act quickly. With authority, he silenced Hux's babbling and dispatched his subordinates, without giving rise to objections.

“There's nothing more to explain,” sentenced, after the brief clarification of the corporal. “Hux, go back to your business. Corporal, I’m waiting for you in two hours” and, without looking at Rey, he added “I'm on my way, so I can take the  _employee_  without problems.”

Hux, however, did not move.

“What do you think you do, disavowing me in that way… And we all know what people of his ilk are capable of,” he finished, pointing to the corporal who disappeared along the way.

“Do you have any proof, Major?”

“No, but the young ...”

“Then your accusation is unfounded. If you do not want me to send a letter to the High Command, I suggest you take your place and follow my orders," he said.

His subordinate was seething with anger, but he had no alternative but to obey and withdraw.

Then, once the soldiers had disappeared along the way, he and the girl were finally alone. He watched her closely. Her dress was covered in dust and her hair was a real mess, with twigs scattered here and there. With trembling hands, she tried to massage the injured ankle. Of course, she wasn’t able to return to the Manor walking. 

Then, Ren found himself thinking about how young and innocent she looked now. Even though she didn’t met his gaze, he could see a glint of liquid in her bright eyes.

She had been crying?

The thought disarmed him for a moment. Then, he realized that she didn’t understand his language. Surely, the girl had no idea what he was going to do with her, and after dealing with Hux, the record could not bode well. Perhaps, his own paranoia had led him to exaggerate the situation a bit. If she was really innocent, then he had behaved like a real jerk.

A twinge of guilt prodded him.

Maybe, he could still remedy it.

With a quick and determined movement, Ren positioned himself behind her and held her elbows to help her up. The young woman snorted and tensed for a moment, but didn’t move away.

“I'm taking you to the Manor,” He mumbled in French, trying to look indifferent. “If you  _collaborate_ , it will be quick. Actually, I'm in a hurry.”

A moment passed, and then the young woman visibly relaxed. Encouraged by her tacit approval, the soldier urged her to continue towards the car, with a part of her weight resting on him. Ren was surprised at how light and warm she was, and he could not help but notice the pleasant scent –made of sun and wildflowers- that her hair gave off.

 _Weak,_  he said to himself in a voice that did not seem to be his.  _Let's finish with this now._

When he climbed on his side of the seat, he did not even dare to look at her. Based on his past actions, surely she would be thinking the worst of him and did not want to feed that image. He cursed himself, trying to find some way to make her understand, to excuse himself ... Then, thousands of sentences crossed his mind, but none seemed adequate.

_Is it always so hot in summer?_

_The other night, I ..._

_Is the ankle ... does it hurt?_

_What were you doing wandering in the garden last night !?_

No, no, and no. Anything he said would press her too much. His best option, for now, was to remain silent. However, he decided to venture a quick glance and surprised with the view: For a brief moment, he caught the glint of her eyes, which had been scrutinized him openly. The connection, however, was broken instantly, because as soon as they met, both shocked and turned the eyes to their respective windows.

He cleared his throat, nervous.

  
Why did she look at him like that? Not with anger or fear, but with a hungry expression Why did he feel that her gaze had  _burned him_  raw?

 _Thank heaven_ , the unpleasant situation dissipated a few moments later, when the car parked next to the Manor. Rebuilding his martial and authoritarian bearing, Kylo Ren got out of the car and went to her door to help her down.

For a moment, the girl simply stood motionless, her feet dangling from the car and her gaze fixed on his boots. Of course, Ren noticed, he could not simply pull her arm without asking. That would be brusque and terribly inappropriate.

Then, with a forgotten gesture, he extended a gloved hand towards her. The young woman looked up, surprised, at his outstretched arm. Then, slowly, her focus climbed up to his face.

Her hazel eyes held his gaze, bright and hesitant. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were slightly parted. A rebellious lock fell on her temple, and Ren could not help thinking that he looked something  _endearing_.

The Lieutenant did everything possible to maintain a flat and impassive expression, very different from the uncontrolled emotions that were bubbling inside him. His hand continued in the air for a few moments that seemed an eternity, while she weighed his offer, without letting his eyes.

Then,  _finally_ , the unthinkable happened.

Slowly, but decidedly, the young woman's bare hand reached out to touch him.

Ren's chest turned upside down. Suddenly, his brain had stopped working and, before the disappearance of the reason, he could only let himself be carried away by the train of emotions that surrounded him. His heart was hammering at full speed and a warm sensation spread through his belly.

For a moment, he cursed himself for wearing those stupid gloves that would deprive him of her touch. However, when her fingers were only a hand away, a slam of the door startled them both.

Instinctively, the Lieutenant Colonel took a step back, withdrawing his hand and moving away from her.

“Rey? It's you?”

At that moment, other women appeared at the door, in front of them. While the brunette ran to her partner, Ren just watched the scene in silence.

“You had me worried, it was more than two hours ago that you left,” she said “Where is your bicycle? And what the hell happened to your ankle?” said, but the girl remained silent, watching in shock: “Come in, you 'll find a doctor.”

With resolution, she helped the younger girl get out of the car and drove her inside the Manor.

The spell had broken now and Ren followed them with his gaze, vaguely troubled.

But then, before disappearing behind the door, she looked back at him. Almost imperceptibly, she bowed her head towards him, in greeting, after disappear. A warm and pleasant emotion, long forgotten, spread across the chest of the Lieutenant Colonel, while he contrived to maintain his composure.

 _Rey_ , he said to himself, testing the name on his mind.  _Her name is Rey_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tips:
> 
> -[Fusil Mauser](https://goo.gl/images/chqieW).
> 
> \- _Jawohl, Oberstleutnant!_ means "Yes, Sir!"
> 
> \- Kylo Ren has a _[Ritterkreuz des Eisernen Kreuzes](https://goo.gl/images/prC29t)_ , (Knight's Cross), that could be awarded for leadership, distinguished service or personal gallantry.


	8. Beliefs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you! Here is the update of the week, I hope you enjoy it. I have also embarked on the process of correcting the previous chapters and i havn't finished yet. Why? because I have discovered that I have been tremendously petty with descriptions of physical places. I am also correcting some mistakes in redaction and translation. If you have read this far, don't worry! the plot hasn't been modified and you can continue without problems, now that the good stuff is coming ;)
> 
> IMPORTANT: I would like to clarify that, honestly, I do not intend to advocate any aspect of the Nazi regime or enter into moralistic debates. I'm trying to reconstruct the historical details as accurately as possible, and the characters (which are fictitious) have their own contradictions and reasons do what they do. Also, this is a hobby and not a political allegation of any kind.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> PS: If you're wondering about spanish version ("Drole de guerre) I've removed it from AO3. Why? Because i've already published it in FanFiction.net, where there's a large community of spanish readers. Keep updating both demanded me a lot of time, that's why I decided to take it out (and I don't like to leave unfinished works in my dashboard... *thats my OCD*). Anyway, you can read it [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13059035/1/Dr%C3%B4le-de-guerre).

When they got in the main room, Rey was carefully deposited into the pink sofa while Maz examined her ankle.

“It looks bloated, but it doesn’t seem to be a fracture,” she said. “Maybe you've been lucky, child.”

“You better rest. The doctor cannot come until tomorrow," Jess boomed, hanging up the phone.

Rey sighed. The prospect of being prostrate, even a few days, didn’t seem very exciting. Also, her mind was still trying to process the recent events. As soon as they had put a foot in the house, the Lieutenant Colonel had gone back into the car and disappeared at full speed, without a word. He said he was in a hurry, she remembered, and surely the incident had delayed him to get anywhere he was going.

Against her will, she had to admit that the man's intentions had been sincere. He could have left her in the Mayor's hands, or abandoned her in the middle of the road, alone. He could have questioned her about the events of the previous week and demanded explanations.

However, he had merely helped her get home, without saying a word. In other circumstances, the gesture could even be considered a chivalrous act.

 _He is an invader, do not forget that_.

The phrase -which had lately become her personal mantra- burst into her mind again. Instinctively, her gaze traveled to Jess, standing beside the couch. Rey wondered what her friend would think if she told her the  _whole_  truth of what had happened. Until now, she had given them a vague and dispassionate account, saying anything about his touch or the quiet softness with which he had treated her. Even less, that she had given him a slight nod in return.

Judging by his expression, the Lieutenant Colonel hadn’t expected the gesture either. Of course, he wouldn’t get anything else from her. But somehow, it felt just _right_. Her skin was still itching where he had touched her, and she was delighted to see that his scent was still faintly impregnated on her dress.

Rey admonished herself. What the hell was happening with her? Why her thoughts were so libertine and detached from morality when he was near?

The sound of an engine and the knock on the door brought her out of her mind. The Madame had gone out to collect the rent from the tenants and wouldn’t return until nightfall. They did not wait for anyone else. Who can it be now? For an instant, the three women looked at each other in silence. Then, with slow movements, Maz went to the door and opened it enough to identify the visitor.

"Good afternoon , ma'am, " greeted a foreign accent behind the the  _vitreaux_. “I am Lieutenant Straus, doctor of the 48th Regiment of the  _Wehrmacht._  I’m here to examine the girl.”

Maz watched Jess and Rey for a moment and then opened the door wide.

A uniformed German entered the room, carrying a large black briefcase that he deposited next to the sofa. To Rey's surprise, Lieutenant Colonel Ren appeared behind, nodding at the presents, and observing the scene on the threshold of the hall.

“May I?” the doctor pointed at her ankle.

Rey asked Jess silently before nodding. Her friend was at her side, with a protective stand and ready to act. However, the doctor did his job efficiently, with clinical hands. When he pressed a critical point, Rey let go a moan of pain. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the Lieutenant Colonel was focused on his comrade with a cryptic expression.

“You're lucky. It's just a sprain, and there does not seem to be dislocation. With a little rest and an infusion to help reduce inflammation, it will be enough.”

“How much rest, Lieutenant?” Ren asked from the doorway, and the women turned to look at him, surprised.

“I'd say a week is enough. If it gets more inflamed or you cannot move it, please call me again.”

The doctor closed his briefcase and they both went to the door, muttering in German. Before leaving the room, the Lieutenant Colonel gave them a martial greeting and left the house again.

The women in the room watched the door, in utter disbelief.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

Rest would have been a blessing if Rey had been able to access the library. But, with her greatest pleasure forbidden, the first two days were torpid and boring. The night of the accident, Corporal Sturm had been sent to the Manor with a pair of wooden crutches and an Antiphlogistine unguent, courtesy of the Lieutenant Colonel. 

Maz opened her eyes in surprise when she received them.

“I hadn’t seen these articles since the war began,” she said to Rey, suspicious. “Clearly, the man had made an effort to get them.”

The young woman, however, had not been willing to use them. Doing so meant _admit_ that he could be kind. Also, she was afraid to cross another line that would take her further into that strange _intimacy_  they had shared in the car.

Despite her reluctance, she discovered soon that  _the pledge of peace_  was extremely useful. Thanks to the crutches, she could move beyond her rooms without asking for help. So, finally, her restless nature overcame her pride. To ease her conscious, she told herself that she would use them only when he wasn’t in the house.

After the second day, it was clear that it wouldn’t be necessary to hide. Since the accident, the man had simply disappeared from sight again. Even now, he was careful to return to the Mansion after the curfew, when she and Jess were already in their rooms. Rey could not help but feel a hint of disappointment.

Rationally, she  _knew_  she shouldn’t want to see him. She  _knew_ it. But her emotional side was stronger than logic, and now that the dam had broken, she didn’t know how to stop the torrent of desire. Before the dawn broke, Rey woke up and heard his heavy footsteps on the wooden landing. At night, she couldn’t sleep until the sound of the car's engine rumbled at the entrance of the Manor.

And then, she began to _dream_.

Until then, her dreams had been incomprehensible, chaotic or frankly ridiculous. But they had always been  _innocent_ , vague romantic stories, at best, that involved her favorite’s characters: a brave D'Artagnan, a handsome Count. Other times, the hero was Gaston Holdo, whom she had seen in the salon portraits and secretly admired.

But  _this_. This was entirely different. The touch of the Lieutenant Colonel had awakened in her something much wilder and more primitive. His gloved hands on her skin, his smell, the brawny arms she had seen that day in the square. Every part of him was printed on her senses. But, above all things, what tormented her the most was _his eyes_. Rey didn’t think she could break free of them someday. So dark, so meaningful, so expressive.

By night, her dreams reflected the forbidden pleasure that she couldn’t admit by day. The problem was that he wasn’t a decent gentleman or a story character. He was the enemy. He was a prominent member of the Nazi army. And, still, he had the power to ruffle her skin and make her belly writhe with desire.

Rey had to pray several Our Fathers and infinite Hail Marys in search of atonement for her sinful mind. She looked up in her old Bible, in order to find some guidance for her particular situation. But references seemed vague and ambiguous, and finally she couldn’t find answers there either.

Why did her body betray her like this now? Was it a divine test to prove her? Or was the result of her boring mind?

After the second day of rest, Rey awoke determinedly to look for some distraction. She had practically  _begged_  Maz to assign her some task to spend the time and, finally the old woman agreed.

Minutes after, she was sitting alone in the kitchen garden collecting some vegetables. It had rained early in the morning and by now the air was somewhat more humid. 

“Let me help with that,” said Jess, sitting next to her. The girl showed a strange look on her face. “We can talk?” 

Rey stared back at her suspiciously. The truth was that they hadn’t talked more than was strictly necessary after that fateful night. But, if Jess wanted to say something, she was not going to object.

“It’s okay Jess. What's wrong?” answered with little enthusiasm.

Her friend focused on the peppermint as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet. She sigh deeply and then, without looking at her, began to speak.

“I'm going to tell you the truth, okay?  _But_ ,” she hastened to add at the same time Rey opened her mouth to reply, “please, do not interrupt me until I finish.” Before continuing, her friend looked around the gardens, making sure they were completely alone. Then, she said in lower voice, "did I ever tell you about my father, right?”

“Yes, I think so. He was a laborer who worked in Paris and then settled here when you were little.” Rey had no idea where that conversation would end up.

“Well, actually, that's not all. Before the war, my father participated in the French Section of the Workers' International.” Rey frowned in confusion and Jess rolled her eyes back: “you know, an organization formed by the Socialist Parties of France. A story for another time,” she added, diminishing importance. “Anyway. The fact is that, during the Great War, he was one of the first to join the front. My father was deeply convinced, Rey, he thought he had to defend his country,” Jess swallowed and nostalgia clouded her eyes.

"But after the battle of the Somme, everything changed. He was seriously injured and, you know, according to my mother he was never the same again. The fact is that, when he died, he bequeathed me this.” From her pocket, she took out a bronze medal, adorned with blue and yellow strips. “It is a decoration. I think it was one of his greatest treasures,” she smiled, melancholy. “He also told me, before he died, that no effort is too great to defend what you love. I did not understand it then. But I do now,” she said, and cradled the medal on her hand.

"When I knew we were about to give up, I did not hesitate. I knew that my purpose was clear. I secretly contacted his old friends, worldly men who were informed of the situation and had their own networks. And, together, we decided to start scheduling some secret meetings to exchange our ideas and discuss a way to organize ourselves. We didn’t want it to be known, afraid of what could happen when the Germans arrived. I'm so sorry, Rey. I should have told you before. I just wanted to protect you.”

Jess took her hand, not looking at her yet. When Rey searched her eyes, she found them flooded with tears.

“It's okay, Jess ... I ... I think I understand,” she said sincerely. “But what changed? Why are you telling me now?”

“I'll always take care of you, Rey,” answered, wiping away the tears. “You knowit . But I also understood that, hiding the truth from you, I was making it worse. I ...” Her voice cracked, “I just wanted you to know, before this turn into an abyss between us. You deserve to know everything.”

Then, Jess told her about the rest: the meetings, Poe, the Resistance, the mission, the news from the front and from Paris. Rey's head was spinning. How could she have been so blind? How could she have ignored the reality in front of their noses? Suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle came together, and she began to see the occupation through the eyes of her friend. The stubbornness of Jess against the enemy was taking a new meaning now. And maybe ... Maybe his father was right. Her land, her way of life, the people she knew ... All this was worth it.

They were holding hands in silence while a determination took shape on her mind. After a few minutes, Rey spoke, resolved.

“I'm in Jess... I mean, I  _want to_  participate. What’s the mission about?”

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

"We received the directive from the office of  _Herr_  Goebbels himself, Lieutenant," said Ren in his office. "I trust you to arrange the preparations."

“Yes, sir,” the NCO replied, holding the paper with pale hands. “But are you sure you want to include civilians?”

“That's the idea. The High Command and the Ministry of Propaganda consider that we should give a good image in the occupied territories. What better than to give a free concert? Frenchmen should know the best opera pieces that the glorious German race has bequeathed to the world.” Then he added: “I want you to recruit all the soldiers capable of handling a musical instrument with decency. You can rehearse here at the City Hall.”

“ _Jawhol, Oberstleutnant,_ ” the Lieutenant greeted. “I will inform you when everything is ready.”

Once de NCO left the room, Kylo Ren picked up a cigar from his desk and leaned out the window. The reconstruction tasks progressed with speed and Bussy seemed more beautiful than ever. The soldiers came and went through the streets, busy and filthy, but clearly placid. 

Of course, _anyplace_ was better than the trenches.

Unexpectedly, that thought gave way the memories of the front leaked into his mind and bristled his skin: the sweat, the cold, the stench, the death, the fear. The shattered bodies, the despair, the brightness of madness.

The hell on earth. 

The festering hole of humanity.

And that September, at Poland… No, he couldn’t think about it now.

During the day, it was easier to push those thoughts into the back of his mind. But, at night, the images of absolute terror assailed him without mercy, making him wake up agitated and covered in sweat.

Then, he remembered that he had chosen this.

Did he regret now? Of course not. He knew no other job than the war. However, during the last few months, he had begun to question his convictions.

 _It's something temporary_ , he had said to himself. But, to his despair, each day that passed gnawed another brick in the wall: If the purpose of the war to recover the _Lebensraum_ , their living space, why the hell was he staked in France? Clearly, the  _Fuhrer's_  territorial ambitions went beyond his speeches. And if the ultimate goal of this war was to restore the greatness of the race, how could they allow despicable types -such as _Major_ Hux- to represent that spirit?

Kylo Ren knew, for sure, that he wasn’t the only one who was beginning to become disillusioned with the promises of the Empire. Within the high command of the  _Wehrmacht_ , some Generals let out some veiled criticism, especially those who were not happy to start a war of such proportions in Europe.

At first Ren had dismissed them, thinking that they were just power hungry men. The charisma of Adolf Hitler was undeniable, and the sympathy of the masses grew with each victory of the regime. However, during the past weeks, he had reconsidered those critics seriously. Of course, he hadn’t talked about it to anyone else, but doubt began to gnaw at his conscience at night.

What if this wasn’t the true path? Were they following the crazy delusions of a madman? Was there a reverse? Could he leave now?

The answer to that question made his skin crawl.

The point of no return had been left behind long ago, in that detention cell. He was  _Oberstleutnant Ren_. He had done terrible things. Of course there was no going back when you crossed the _Rubicon_ so many times. The only direction he could go now was forward, towards the end of the route he had chosen long time ago.

Still immersed on his thoughts, the Lieutenant put out the cigarette in the ashtray on the desk, gathered some papers and prepared to return to the Manor. It was still early, barely past noon, but maybe he could work more quietly in the house.

 _And, besides, she'll be there_ , said a treacherous voice in his head. The thought filtered like a warm, bright light that cleared the gloom of his soul. It had been three days since the meeting at the road, and the memory of her exquisite smell still tormented him at night.

 _No, of course she wasn’t the reason for his return to the Manor_ , the reason answered, extinguishing the glow _._  It was only his perfidious body that spoke. Between war and occupation, he had found few moments of liberation, and his own abstinence was beginning to _harden_ at mornings. And now, it also played with his mind. He had to find an urgent solution to that  _problem,_  otherwise he would fall into madness. 

Pulling away the obscene thoughts that came to his mind, Ren went out into the corridor, leaving behind some haughty and boisterous soldiers. He needed to run from this place if he wanted to think clearly.

But, of course, he could not avoid the deception of not finding her on the way back turned into a torn in his chest.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

“It will be simple,” said Jess, reviewing the plan for the fifth time. “I'll go into the office with the extra key I stole from Madame's rooms and you'll be keeping an eye on the room. If someone were to come, you'll turn on the radio, is that clear?”

Rey nodded, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Jess, I'm not an idiot. I may be new at this, but the plan is clear and simple.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” she said, squeezing her apron. “I'm nervous, that’s all.”

“Me too, but you have to calm down. If you repeat the plan again, I swear I'm going to slap you in the face,” said Rey with determination, and Jess stared back with a proud smile. “However, you shouldn’t worry. He has not returned until dusk for days.”

“I know, but we cannot leave any details left to chance. If he catches us ...”

“He won’t,” cut her off, suddenly feeling extremely safe. “Let's get going!”

Now that Rey knew the plans of the Resistance in some detail, suddenly, she felt in her element. As a child, she recalled, she was the one who devised the best tricks to steal food from the orphanage's cupboards. Of course, it didn’t always end well and more than once she had earned a good beating for that. But when she achieved her goal without being discovered, the feeling of power that invaded her was absolutely wonderful. And, of course, it meant she would go to bed bellyful.

Once the plan was launched, each one took its place. In order to avoid suspicion, Rey stood next to the radio device that was located next to the living room window. If someone appears, she could pretend that she was removing dust from the room.

She peeked briefly behind the curtains. It was past noon and the road was calm. The heat had increased considerably, and surely most of the villagers had retired to rest briefly after lunch.

A few minutes passed, while anxiety overtook her.

Why was Jess taking so long?

The Manor was deserted. Mrs. Holdo had left to pay a visit and Maz had retired to her own home to attend to her sick husband. The silence was heavy, barely broken by the creaking of the woods under her feet. She scanned the room nervously, trying to distract herself.

Then, a heavy black coat hanging from the hall caught her eye. Judging from its size and color, it wasn’t owned by any of the women in the house. Maybe it belonged to the doctor had visited her the other day. 

Without thinking too much, she took the crutches and approached slowly. Curiosity had taken her by surprise and now she was completely under it’s spell. Maybe, if she got close enough ...

The smell struck her instantly: sweet, musky, masculine, indescribably attractive. Enraptured, she continued to move closer, until her hand touched the fabric. On the outside it was hard, waterproof and scratchy. On the inside, however, she was surprised to find that it was soft and comfortable. 

Definitely, it belonged to the Lieutenant Colonel. Rey had no doubt.

She wondered why he would leave it there, and when he had used it. It had not been cold lately, but he always dressed impeccably despite the weather. Except that one time she had seen him in the square. With a little bit of guilt, let herself be wrapped up by the scent, pretending that maybe she was in his arms again… 

Then, as if someone had whispered a suggestion, the idea struck her mind like a lightning bolt.

The key of the chest.

Excited, Rey felt about the coat, searching on the pockets. She had no reason to believe that he would keep it there, but a sixth sense impelled her. So, when felt something heavy pull on one side, she smiled, euphoric.

The girl couldn’t believe her luck. Oh, the pack of books that would be given! She was already savoring the victory; mentally selecting the titles with which her feast would began.

However, before her fingers touched the cold metal of the key, the sound of a vehicle stopping at the door made her wake up violently from the spell.

The huge silhouette that came off the Mercedes was unmistakable.

_Jess!_

Her chest began to hammer at full speed, while moving clumsily with the crutches.

How could she have been so distracted? The plan was simple and she had ruined everything, letting herself be carried away by her damned emotions. Now, both were in danger.

Hurrying the passage, she crossed the lobby and reached the radio table, just as the Lieutenant Colonel operated the doorknob. Desperate, Rey pressed the button. Maybe it wasn’t late yet.

However, the device did not turn on. Rey froze. What the hell had happened? She tried several more times, while the steps began to resonate on the floor of the anteroom and the occupant closed the door behind him.

Rey cursed, begged God and tried to focus, all at the same time. Then, her desperate gaze followed the wiring behind the device and found the problem. The damn machine was  _unplugged_ , out from her reach.

She would never success on time. While her mind was deliberating, the occupant had passed behind, ignoring her, and heading for the stairs with a martial step.

Rey had no choice. She couldn’t let him find Jess.

Without thinking, and letting herself be carried away by her poor instinct, she decided to do something spontaneous.

She  _spoke_.

“Wait!,” she said, almost shouting, as she hurried to get to him.

The man was in the hall, with one foot on the stairs and the hand on the railing.

In slow motion, Rey watched the Lieutenant turn around and take a step to face her. He wore his military suit as usual, but apparently he had left his cap in the entryway, because his dark hair looked somewhat disheveled around his face. For a crazy moment, Rey thought that it made him look much younger.

The man articulated a strange expression that wandered from her face to her arms. 

Oh, of course! The crutches! She was using the crutches  _he_ had given her. If she was not so worried about her friend's luck, she would have slapped herself. The Lieutenant swallowed audibly while their eyes met again. He looked expectant and, in a way, pleased.

Unable to connect the words, Rey stood in front of him, in silence, lost in his expressive eyes.

_It’s not black, It’s definitely amber._

The thought passed through her briefly, unable to stop it. In other circumstances, she would have laughed hysterically at the occurrences of her ravenous mind. However, he was still there, expectant, and she could not delay it any longer.

“Yes?,” he demanded dryly.

“I ...” Rey stammered, suddenly aware of what was happening. Quickly she looked down and stared at his feet as she spoke. “I ... I wanted to thank you. The other day… I wanted to thank you for this,” said, pointing at the crutches. “You didn’t have to help me, and yet, you did.”

The words came out and her mind wasn’t able to process them. The phrases flowed so spontaneously that, part of her, suspected that the purpose was not just to save Jess. Maybe, there was some truth in her statement.

The Lieutenant Colonel's surprised face was unmistakable now. Surprise, and a slight grimace of triumph in the corners of his eyes. Of course, she had left him talking alone just like an idiot more than once and, now, her awkward thanks were recomposing the pieces of his badly hurt ego.

Slowly -and with an expression of arrogance that seemed to say "I told you so"-, he inclined his head, in greeting.

“You do not have to thank me,  _Rey_ ” answered, deeply and solemnly. There was some kind of pleasure in hearing her name spoken by  _that voice_. However, under the appearances, she noticed a little sly mockery from his words. “I'm glad to serve you.”

The man's gaze became grave and hungry. The last words hung heavy between them,  _like a promise,_  thought Rey. When she was going to open his mouth to replicate a phrase that gave ground with his redivive ego, a few light steps ran down the stairs. Instantly, Jess appeared carrying a pile of towels, frowning. Without paying any attention to the Lieutenant Colonel, she passed by with arrogance and made a significant gesture to Rey in the direction of the kitchens.

The girl let out a breath of air that she had been holding back, coming out of her reverie. She had to admit that, during the last few minutes, she had completely forgotten the mission. Now that another threshold was crossed, she felt released.

When Jess disappeared into the kitchens, it was painfully obvious that they had nothing more to say to each other. Rey nodded with a cordial gesture and the Lieutenant Colonel bowed his head again silently. He turned his back on her, while the sound of his feet was lost on the steps.

When Rey's head had landed on firm ground again, a question echoed inside her mind.

How did he know her name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tips:
> 
> \- Antiphlogistine it's a popular product for the treatment of tough muscle pain, introduced in 1919.
> 
> \- The French Section of the Workers' International (French: Section Française de l'Internationale Ouvrière, SFIO) was a French socialist political party founded in 1905 as a merger between the French Socialist Party and the Socialist Party of France. The SFIO opposed itself to colonialism and to militarism, although it abandoned its anti-militarist views and supported the National Union government (Union nationale) facing Germany's declaration of war on France in World War I.
> 
> \- [Joseph Goebbels](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Goebbels#/media/File:Bundesarchiv_Bild_146-1968-101-20A,_Joseph_Goebbels.jpg) was a German Nazi politician and Reich Minister of Propaganda of Nazi Germany from 1933 to 1945. 
> 
> \- The Nazi regime was a great promoter of what they considered "German art" in occupied territories, fundamentally, opera, architecture and literature.
> 
> \- The German concept of Lebensraum ("living space") comprises policies and practices of settler colonialism which proliferated in Germany from the 1890s to the 1940s. Following Adolf Hitler's rise to power, Lebensraum became an ideological principle of Nazism and provided justification for the German territorial expansion into Central and Eastern Europe. *note here the power of ideology to justify war o-o*


	9. Excuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you! It was a hard week and it was difficult to update on time but, finally, I did it, yeyy. However, I am desperately in need of a beta to monitor translations. If you enjoy this fic in English and have experience as a proofreader, let me know. :)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> PS: I've got a Tumblr account now! Come and say hi! [Lesvalkyries](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lesvalkyries)

“You got it?"

"I think so," Jess whispered, putting a hand in her pocket where she kept the stolen ration card. "The German language it’s not my thing, but Poe gave me a general idea about what I had to look for. There were other interesting things too. Records of supplies, maps with information about the troops in the area... I planed about stealing some, but I think it would have been very risky. "

The girls were whispering nervously in the kitchen after making sure the Lieutenant Colonel disappeared into his office again. The golden light of the afternoon filtered through the windows and bounced off the copper utensils that hung lazily from the sideboard. A kettle boiled slowly in the stove and the smell of fresh rosemary and thyme filled the room with a pleasant, domestic aroma.

However, Rey's hands were trembling and her belly was swirling with emotion and restlessness. Half an hour had passed since the incident and the man was still in his office. Oh, how close to being discovered they had been! She wondered if he had noticed that her chat was just a tactic. Would he realize that someone had been loitering in his rooms? Would he notice the absence of the document?

"Easy, he won’t notice," Jess said, reading the uneasiness in her face. "There were a lot of papers, it would be impossible for he to remember something as trivial as this. Besides... I found something very strange, Rey," she added, lowering her voice. Her friend tensed visibly. " _Letters._  Anonymous letters addressed to the provisional government...  _Written by Frenchmen_ ”. Rey let out the air she had been holding. Fine. At least it wasn’t a finding that involved the Lieutenant Colonel in something dark or twisted. "That was the reason why I took longer than expected. I could not help reading the content. Apparently, some of Bussy's neighbors have been making complaints."

“Complaints?" She asked incredulously, "what kind of complaints?".

“That’s the odd part. Actually, some were nonsense. Village gossip, old revenges. A few of them referred to the  _affaire_  of the carpenter's wife," she said, rolling her eyes. "But others were frankly disturbing: that the grocer is communist, that the daughter of the Montpelliers frequents Jewish circles. Probably that’s not true but, why spread those slanders? And why would a Lieutenant Colonel have them if it is not to impart justice? They are spying us."

“That's terrible Jess ... Did you find something about us?"

“I thought the same. I couldn’t read all of them, but no, I did found anything about us.” Rey sighed, relieved. Deep down, she was afraid that someone had seen her interact with the Lieutenant Colonel. What would happen if they labeled her as collaborationist? She could not stand the humiliation and the shame. "Anyway," Jess said again, "I have to get this to Poe as soon as possible. I'm going out for a few hours. "

“Tonight?! Are you crazy?"

“Of course not!" she huffed. "I contacted someone who could send it to him without raising suspicions. Poe will send it back to me in the morning and we'll put it back on his desk" she finished, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Please, stay here until I return. If the Madame appears before me, lie some excuse about my absence. "

Rey nodded. She would have liked to go with her but, with a twisted ankle, she would hinder the mission. Besides, if Mrs. Holdo found out that they had left the house alone in the hands of the guest, she would flay them alive.

"Fine, I'll manage," she assured.

Jess nodded and then turned her back, ready to retire. She wore a dark blue dress and the rays of the afternoon sun illuminated her silhouette. However, before her hand reached for the latch, she suddenly turned the head towards Rey and looked at her gravely.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

“Why didn’t you turn on the radio when he arrived?" she asked, frowning. "You were _talking_ to him?"

Rey swallowed. She wasn’t capable of lying to her when they had been so close to being discovered. Besides, her friend had to understand: the situation had been desperate. What else could she have done? Jess would probably go mad, but Rey couldn’t bear the thought of staining her confidence again, now that her friend had shared the whole truth with her.

"I tried to turn on the radio," she began, almost in a whisper, "but when attempted to turn it on, it was unplugged. And we were out of time." She sighed and then continued: "Yes, Jess, I had to distract him. I could not find another way out. But don’t think I liked talking to that ... that  _monster,_ " she added quickly. "Also, it worked, right?

Her mind risen up at her own lie. But she wouldn’t admit, under no circumstances, that the meeting had felt so…  _right_. Instead, she kept her gaze down, ready to receive a reprimand. Or, perhaps, her friend would give a sermon right there, accusing her of breaking their most sacred rule.

But, against all expectation, Jess watched her for a moment, incredulous, and then took three strides towards her.

"You're very brave," she said, close to her ear, as she held her tightly. "Thank you. Thanks for that." Then she walked away again, throwing Rey one last look full of affection, and disappeared through the door.

The girl in the kitchen remained silent, divided between confusion and a curious sense of guilt. 

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

When she came out of her reverie, she was suddenly fully aware that she was  _alone_  with him in that huge house. Up to now, the man had behaved within the limits of morality, but they had never really been unaccompanied. The sole idea twisted her gut. 

Perhaps, the best thing would be to keep busy and avoid his presence by all means.

Determined to let it go, Rey resumed her tasks. But when she came out of the pantry loaded with some potatoes and onions, the knock on the door startled her.

Who could it be now?

Leaving the tubers on the counter, she wiped her hands on the apron and went to the lobby. The shade in the  _vitreaux_  was unrecognizable, and the girl peeked discreetly out the window that overlooked the entrance. There was another Mercedes parked next to the Lieutenant Colonel’s and she noticed a flash of pale skin and reddish hair. Her heart skipped a beat. 

The _Major_.

Rey had no intention of opening the door but, what else could she do? 

For a brief moment, she wondered if the man was there to visit his comrade or to take revenge on her for whatever offended him the other day. The second possibility was, perhaps, something distant, but the girls still remained alert. With a determined and haughty expression, she opened the door enough for the redhead to see her.

" _Mademoiselle,_ " he said in an affected tone and trying to sound cordial, "I came here to see Lieutenant Colonel Ren. If you are so kind to let me pass. "

The last sentence did not sound like a question at all, and Rey felt a chill on the back of her neck. She opened the door, without saying a word. The _Major_ went into the lobby with a self-satisfied air and scanned the room.

"So this is the  _suite_  Lieutenant Colonel has chosen for himself," he said, and his eyes wandered quickly to Rey, with a meaningful look. "I can see  _why_."

The girl tried not to be carried away by the hint, giving him a significant but apathetic gesture towards the stairs. She wanted to disappear from his sight as soon as possible. Hux, however, stared at her for a moment before taking a couple of strides into the main room without asking permission. Rey did not move.

"Yes, of course," said the man, a little to himself, sliding his hand down the pink sofa, "this is more like him." He rested his eyes on her, shamelessly. "He does not like to indulge in luxuries, you know? He has always preferred a country style ...  _tasteless_  , I would say.

By all accounts, the Major was no longer referring to the Manor. With an unpleasant smile, he returned to approach the young woman, practically invading her personal space. His perfume smelled citrus, penetrating and ostentatious and the military suit looked immaculate. Rey remained in her place, trying to project all the hatred she felt in her face, even though she was staring at the floor.

Then, the man held her chin in gloved hands and tilted her face towards him. Before the young woman could react, he moved closer to her ear and whispered, "But maybe the  _ordinary_  can be fixed with a little _care_ , don’t you think?"

At that statement, hurtful and lascivious, she took a step back shaking his grip and cut him off with her eyes. If she was not paralyzed with surprise, Rey would have slapped him. The man had an arrogant, malicious and predatory smile. 

How dare he? How dared to humiliate her in that way and pretend to go unpunished? 

Anger, raw and unsettled, boiled in her chest. 

However, before she could react, a deep and authoritative voice surprised them.

"Major," Ren said on the stairs. His face was neutral and his jaw was tight, but for a moment, Rey thought she caught a glimpse of a dangerous glint in his eyes. " _Was machst du hier?_  I would not want to bother our hosts more than the account. The next time I see you around here, go directly to me,  _ist das klar?_ "

Hux said nothing, but his gaze was full of meaning. It was evident that he was comfortable discomfiting his superior. With one last look at her, -and she felt as if he had slid his hands all over her body- he turned back on her and headed for the stairs.

Rey looked up and her eyes met the Lieutenant Colonel's. His face remained impassive, but his eyes transmitted a torrent of emotions that she couldn’t decode.

Remorse? Anger? Determination?

_No_ , surely that was her imagination.

She was the first to break contact and head back to the kitchens.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

When the afternoon had begun to fall, Rey sat on the steps at the entrance of the house. Judging by the disappearance of the second car, the Major had already left the manor, at last. She still hadn’t recovered from the afternoon meeting and had no intentions to meet undesirable visitors again.

Mrs. Holdo had returned and Jess was cooking dinner. In gratitude for covering in her absence, she had absolved Rey of her tasks claiming that she "deserved to enjoy a little free time." As a result, the young girl had decided to take a look at her bicycle, which had been fatally damaged since the accident.

At first glance it seemed irreparable, but that would not intimidate her. Fixing broken objects against all expectation had been a hobby that she had developed since childhood. The poverty in which she had grown up had taught her never to give up, even more if it was a first necessity article. As a collector, she had wandered around the hospice scavenging and cleaning many pieces that would help her to solve the most complex repairs.

This would not be the exception. In fact, her bicycle was assembled from old models that people had discarded. Would she give up on her own creation? Of course not!

The girls settled on the porch of the Manor and took some tools out of her pocket. After examining the vehicle with critical eye, she decided that the most practical thing to do would be to disassemble piece by piece and replace the damaged components. 

With a smile of anticipation, she gave himself carefully to her task.

Some minutes later, while she was trying to release a particularly stubborn screw, she watched out of the corner of her eye that a figure dressed in a military suit was passing by. 

Rey tensed.

“Good morning, miss."

The tone of that voice didn’t have the depth or the cadence that she longed to hear. Instead, when she lifted her head, she found Corporal Sturm's face.

"I... understand if you do not want to answer me," he said in slow French, as he took off his service cap and held it in his hands. "I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. What happened the other day..." For a few moments he remained silent. Clearly, he was trying to choose the most appropriate words to say whatever he wanted to express. "Not all of us are like  _him,_ " he finally said, "I hope that, one day, you can understand that."

Having said his statement, he kept his gaze fixed on her for a few moments. Then he nodded briefly and prepared to continue on his way.

As the Corporal walked away, Rey knew that the man spoke with sincerity and the humility of the gesture touched her deeply. In addition, by this time, she could not continue pretending that she was keeping a vow of silence. If she had been able to strike up a conversation with the Lieutenant Colonel, why could not she do it with him?

“I understand it," she said slowly, "I mean; I do not think you're like  _them_. I ... I never thanked you for trying to help me.

The Corporal turned to look at her, surprised. 

“I don’t believe in that nonsense he had said", the young woman continued, "you know, about the  _inferior race_. I'm sorry, I should have defended you. After all, you were in that mess because you were trying to help me."

“No, it's not necessary, please," said the corporal, recovering the speech. "I understand your silence, I really do" and after a pause, he added "I know how it feels to be on the loser’s side.” Reaching a hand, he added: "I'm Stur- ... I'm Finn," said, smiling.

"Nice to meet you Finn," she answered, taking his hand and smiling back. "I'm Rey."

Before the conversation could continue, Mrs. Holdo's voice echoed from inside the house. Finn stepped back and she let go of his hand.

“Rey? Where are you?"

The girl rolled her eyes, exasperated.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," she said, and pointed in the direction of the Manor. "And I guess you wouldn’t like to meet with her right now either."

The corporal smiled again. "Are you kidding? I think I prefer to deal with them with Hitler himself."

The two laughed briefly and greeted each other with a gesture. Then, the corporal quickly retreated along the road, while the night began to fall.

Rey watched him for a moment before entering the house, more relieved than she had been for a long time.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

When the Major had disappeared leaving a trail of dust on the road, Kylo Ren returned to his office, annoyed. The news Hux had brought weren’t encouraging at all. Apparently, the arrival of General Snoke was scheduled for next month and, although he should feel relieved, the prospect of seeing his superior did not excite him at all. From his point of view, he was beginning to get used to acting autonomously and not having to answer to anyone.

Or, at least, not directly.

The fact that Hux found out the notice before him did nothing to improve his mood either. Kylo Ren was aware that, behind his back, the Major was weaving his own play to hold a relevant position in Snoke's circle. By all accounts, the redhead cretin was orchestrating his own promotion to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, after which, Ren could no longer keep him at bay.

Deep down, he could not understand why his General held him in high esteem, especially when it was clear that Hux was nothing more than a complacent and climbing rat.

"The weakness of a cur, properly manipulated, can be a sharp tool," Snoke had said in their last meeting.

Although he could see the logic in his words, Kylo Ren didn’t agree. The sole memory of his arrogant look on the girl that afternoon made him shudder. If he and Hux were to have the same rank, there was little he could do to prevent such audacity under his own roof. He should have choked him when he had the chance. But it was too late to lament. Now, Ren had to face the consequences and devise a plan to contain the aspirations of the Major. Even more if the man insisted on sticking his nose in his affairs.

He let go a sigh, as he approached to the desk to continue his task. The paperwork was becoming a regular component of his routine and the prospect of spending whole days locked in a dark room put his nerves on edge.

When he was about to start, two dry knocks on the door took him out of his musings.

Immediately, he stood up expectantly.

Would it be _her_?

The events of the last days had plunged him into a strange state of anxiety and euphoria. The girl had challenged him more than once, not bothering to hide the deep contempt she felt for him and his kind. However, the crack on her resolution that he had seen that day at the car had convinced him that, perhaps, there was something more behind. Throwing down her defenses and earning her respect had become a personal challenge, and Kylo Ren was not the kind of man who lost a bet.

The stubbornness of the girl -  _of Rey_  - had awakened something in him. Or, maybe, it had turned into a thorn stuck in the center of his ego. When she broke the self-imposed vow of silence that afternoon, his chest was filled with a magnificent sense of triumph. Somehow, he had managed to pierce her defenses and put the game in his favor. Nor did he miss the fact that she was using the crutches he had sent her. The image had slid a pleasant sensation down his dorsal shin and, he had to admit, had managed to unsettle his own manhood with a visceral and unexpected reaction.

However, the most surprising thing had been to hear her voice, finally. Kylo Ren had heard her singing in the gardens and whispering in the kitchens when she couldn’t see him, but the experience of exchanging a few words with her had been totally unique. He had imagined that her voice would be high, languid and feminine. However, the words had come out of her throat with a deep, serious and determined tone that had left him stunned.

Also, she had broken the silence to  _thank him_. That simple thought was enough to recompose the fragments of his vanity and grant him the victory of the first battle.

Then, when the door rang, his chest filled with expectation.

Would she come to see him? Would she try to start a conversation?

Oh! How nice it would be to see her try it. Now that she had yielded to him, he was not willing to leave her so easy, not after humiliating him a few times. His hand reached out to the doorknob, expectant, while his mind plotted a thousand ways to repay the offense. 

Then, slowly, he opened the door, ready to find a pair of hazel eyes with a wistful expression.

But all he saw was a woman, with slanted eyes and a frown expression mixed with haughtiness and disgust. When she saw him, the girl snorted audibly. She carried a tray in her hand and, by all accounts, preferred to be anywhere but there.

_Of course_ , he admonished himself,  _t_ _he other girl_. Kylo Ren had forgotten her completely.

He stepped aside, opening the door in order to let her get in. The woman entered quickly, threw the tray on his desk with a loud rattle of crockery, and left the room without even looking at him.

Lieutenant Colonel cursed his own imagination.

_Being out of the front had made him soft_ , he thought as he closed the door. He would have to discipline these kinds of emotions if he wanted to stay focused. Nothing that hard training couldn’t solve.  _Of course, the girl was just a stupid game of wills_ , he told herself, _the fruit of his own boredom_. He had a mission and would not be such an idiot to be distracted by a pair of pretty eyes.

That night, he settled stubbornly between the sheets of the  _suite_ , determined to put the matter aside and focus on the important issues: the occupation, the soldiers, the insurgency.

But, of course, his dreams had other plans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tips:  
> \- Was machst du hier? in this context means something like "What the hell are you doing?"  
> -ist das klar? means "is it clear?"  
> -Bicycles were introduced in the late 19th century in Europe, and by the early 21st century, more than 1 billion have been produced worldwide. They were particularly popular in France between 1910 and 1940.


	10. Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you! Thank you for leaving kudos and beautiful comments. You're wonderful readers!  
> A special thanks to [charcuterie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcuterie/pseuds/charcuterie) for her collaboration in the supervision of this fic. Without her help, you would probably get lost in the labyrinths of my cumbersome translation.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 9. Wolf**

 

The next day, Kylo Ren left the  _suite_  after ensuring that the Madame and her employees had left the house for Sunday Mass. It was a cloudy morning, and the air floated wet and heavy; through the window of the landing, he watched the gardens that shone with dew, a faint reminder of the rain that had fallen the night before.

At last, he could take a break. Since they had arrived in Bussy, the Lieutenant Colonel had engaged in administrative and logistical tasks from dawn until night, seven days a week. Now that things were finally getting settled, he could enjoy a day of peace in the countryside.

He went down the stairs, picked up some bread and cheese from the kitchens for a light breakfast, and went out into the beautiful garden. Unlike the soldiers—who preferred to spend their free time snooping around the city, playing football, or bathing in the lake—Kylo Ren decided to take advantage of the loneliness of the Manor and smoke nonchalantly among the bushes.

Despite the humidity, the air was laden with the scent of lavender and iris, and the birds sang happily in the treetops. The sun was melting the storm clouds, trying to emerge through any gap it could find, to filter down sporadic rays of light.

He chose a seat on the iron bench a few feet away from the fountain. The sculpture was small but represented a stylized version of the rape of Persephone by Hades, a scene that seemed ironically appropriate to the current situation in France. For a few moments, he wondered what Madame Holdo would think about it—and smiled to himself mockingly. Certainly, she would be outraged at the mere suggestion.

Then, he took a cigar from his pocket and lit it with a match. The smoke left his mouth, voluptuous as it fell apart in capricious shreds.

After a few minutes, he heard someone approaching. It wasn’t difficult to identify her, moving clumsily on wooden crutches. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair disheveled, and she looked a little exhausted from the effort.

Why she was here? Hadn’t she attended Mass?

Not noticing his presence yet, the young woman set both crutches on the ground and sat with little grace at the fountain. Releasing a loud breath of relief, she stretched out the affected leg and leaned back on her forearms. A ray of sunlight filtered through the clouds, and she closed her eyes, letting the light run through her body. 

She looked serene and peaceful, and for a moment Kylo Ren considered the possibility of disappearing silently in the opposite direction.

However, when he was about to get up, the distant barking of a dog pulled the young woman out of her trance. Opening her eyes, she scanned the gardens and finally discovered him. 

For a brief moment, her shoulders sank and her body withdrew, as if she wanted to run and hide. But, after the initial shock, she straightened quickly and reacted.

“What are _you_ doing here?” she accused, then instantly regretted her audacity, letting out a gasp and putting a hand over her mouth.

Kylo Ren studied her for a moment, not letting any emotion seep through his arrogant facade. "I could ask you the same thing," he finally answered, elusive. “Aren’t you supposed to be bored with some pathetic sermon?” Despite his effort to remain aloof, this provocation left his mouth unbidden.

The young woman looked at him, annoyed, showing her teeth. “And how am I supposed to get there? Fly?” She said coldly and pointed to the crutches. “Besides, you’re one to talk. I’ve heard that the Germans are very fond of _fervent_  speakers.”

Kylo Ren gave her a stern look, catching her allusion to the  _Fuhrer_. “Watch yourself. You forget who you’re talking to.”

"I don’t forget it," she answered. "How could I? I’m reminded of you every day and every night.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused at her revealing turn of phrase. “For someone who refuses to speak to me, you seem to _think_ of me quite often,” he teased, his voice soft but full of smugness.

The mockery had the desired effect, because she flushed and looked away. The prey had fallen into his trap. So! She thought about him? Oh, _that_ was a stimulating disclosure.

"I’m sure I don’t know what you’re implying," she replied coldly, shifting her eyes to the side. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”

Kylo Ren studied her a moment before answering. Of course, he didn’t have to give any explanation for his actions, but even so, he felt that he needed to justify his presence there, to show some purpose.

"I’m reading," he lied.

“Reading. Really.” Rey’s voice was flat.

“Yes.”

“Uh huh,” Rey nodded, eyes narrow and calculating. “So…where is your book?”

Too late, Ren remembered that his hands were empty.

"I left it at the desk—I was going to look for it," he said hastily, avoiding her gaze. She studied him in disbelief. Apparently, his excuse had not been very convincing. He decided to divert the course of conversation to safer fields. “Mrs. Holdo has an incredible library.”

The girl lit up with a strange gesture of longing and then deflated, sadly.

"I know," she said, without offering explanation.

The omission intrigued the Lieutenant Colonel. Instinctively, his thoughts turned to the initials engraved on the covers of the collection. Could it be that she was thinking about the owner? Who was "GH"?

"Anyway, I cannot imagine Mrs. Holdo is very fond of literature," he teased, and caught the ghost of a smile on the girl's features. “Who does it belong to?”

"Her son, Gaston," she replied, and suddenly Kylo Ren thought he had hit the mark. The thought disappointed him. Did she have an _affair_ with Madame's son? Maybe she was not as innocent as he assumed.

“Let me guess: he went to war. Is he ...”

"Not that we know," she said, with a hint of indifference that confused him. “But the Madame kept the collection under lock and key, waiting for his return.”

“I see,” he swallowed. Something didn’t fit there. Perhaps… “And you? Do you read?”

“Of course I can read!” She flared indignantly, returning to a bellicose posture and putting her hands to her waist. “You believe that because I live in the countryside—”

"No, no," he cut her off, holding up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I meant, do you _enjoy_ reading?”

The young woman blushed briefly at her outburst. Then she continued, with a more animated tone.

“Yes, I… enjoy it a lot, in fact. I think I could spend all my life reading.”

Her statement surprised him. He hadn’t foreseen that turn.

“And what do you like to read?”

“Well…” she began, timidly, “I haven’t read that much. As a child, I didn’t have access to many books, and lately I haven’t been able to borrow them from the library, not since you…" She cut herself short, aware of the information she was revealing.

But it had been enough for him to put the pieces together. The puzzle fell together in his mind and Kylo Ren let go of the breath he was holding. He remembered the delicacy and affection with which the books had been carefully wrapped in the trunk, and he smiled to himself. That was information he could use in the future.

"I understand," he said. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She frowned, ready to protest. But before she could open her mouth, the chatter of the woman came drifting from the kitchens. The girl tensed visibly and jumped to her feet, without saying another word to him. Before Kylo Ren could offer to help, she had already taken the crutches and was speeding away without even saying goodbye.

The Lieutenant Colonel watched her disappear into the gardens, more intrigued than he was willing to admit.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

“Jess, I’m here. Hi, Maz," Rey said breathlessly as she entered the kitchen. Judging from her friend's carefree expression, she hadn’t seen her _fraternizing_ with the enemy in the gardens. Thank heaven.

“Great. How's your ankle?” said Jess, while Maz gave her a hug.

“Better. I think it will no longer be necessary to use _these_ in a few days," she said, pointing at the crutches with disdain—though, truthfully, she wasn’t feeling disgusted at all.

“Finally! The cleaning of the whole house is killing me.” Then, while Maz took care of lunch, Jess came over and said quietly into her ear, "Let's go upstairs. I have something to tell you."

They went up to the attic together. Rey could already climb the steps helped by the rail and Jess was right behind her carrying the crutches. When they were finally away from unwanted ears, her friend smiled and closed the bedroom door.

"It's done," she said. “I just returned the ration card to the desk and nobody found out.”

Rey let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God! I almost couldn’t sleep last night!”

“I know, but it's for a good cause—have you seen the Lieutenant Colonel this morning?” Jess asked.

"I think I might have seen him in the gardens," Rey hedged, trying to sound casual.

“Alright. Also, I have news for you.”

“News?”

“Poe will come to Bussy this week. You have to meet him, Rey, you'll love him!”

"Yes, I see that _you_ love him," Rey said teasingly. The truth was, Jess got a sparkle of excitement in her eyes every time they talked about Dameron.

"Don’t be childish," she said dismissively. "My enthusiasm is for the cause.”

"Whatever you say." Rey rolled her eyes, incredulous. Jess let out a snort, ending the conversation.

“I'm going to help Maz. Are you coming?”

"If you don’t mind, I'm going to stay here for a while," Rey answered. “Those crutches left me tired as hell.”

“Perfect. Let me know if you need anything, Madame," Jess said with an exaggerated bow. The two laughed and she finally left the room.

For a few moments, Rey watched the gardens from the window. The Lieutenant Colonel was still there, smoking absentmindedly by the fountain. He had half of his uniform jacket undone, and it made him look younger and far less authoritative. His hair fell back, and his eyes roamed the landscape, thoughtful. However, his halo of arrogance remained intact.

Rey wondered about the man hidden behind the facade. In general, his face was very expressive, but sometimes, it was difficult to unravel the train of thoughts behind the mask. Her instinct told her that there was something else there, something wild and untamed that cried out to come to light and be discovered.

He had been very interested in the library and that had surprised her, sowing questions in her mind that she didn’t dare ask: Had he been _that_ educated? What was his favorite book? Did he like the same authors she did? Now that curiosity had awoken, she  _needed to_  know.

Before thinking it through, she got out of bed and descended awkwardly to the first floor, trying not to put too much pressure on her still-painful foot. Slowly, she crept to the _suite_ and tried to open the door.

She checked to see if it was unlocked; finding it open, she slipped into the room and contemplated it in silence. The  _suite_  still looked the same as she remembered, except for the empty shelves and the desk full of papers. His fragrance floated faintly in the air, and she felt it as a dark but inviting presence.  _It's as if he permeates everything with his essence_ , she thought.

Then she saw it. The dark volume was perched in a corner, lazily illuminated by the morning sun. Rey approached without daring to breathe and turned it over to contemplate the cover.

_Le loup de steppes_. Herman Hesse. 

The German name did not surprise her. As usual, she ran her fingers over the cover and the familiar initials greeted her warmly. Rey cracked it in half delicately. The smell of the paper invaded her senses and dried her mouth, as if it were a spell in which she was already trapped. Her eyes wandered over the contents in French, until a paragraph called her attention.

_«"_ _I like you," she continued, "for the reason I've already told you;_ _I have broken your solitude, I have picked you up just before the door of hell and I have awakened you again._ _But I want from you more, much more._ _I want to make you fall in love with me._ _No, don’t contradict me, let me ..._ _»_

The sound of heavy boots in the corridor ripped her from the reading.

_Oh no!_ She thought, frantic. _What the hell is he doing here?_

Desperate, she closed the book with a bang, trying to figure out how to escape without being seen. Suddenly, she was aware of the weight of the volume in her hands and how childish she seemed there, in his  _suite_ , reading secretly. She placed the work where she had found it, trying to erase any evidence of her intrusion.

However, at that moment it was painfully obvious that she couldn’t run away without being intercepted. With no other way out, Rey decided to walk away from the desk and put both hands behind her back, trying desperately to pretend she had a reason to be there. Her eyes flitted nervously around the room, her mind panicking.

When he came through the door, her heart hammered at full speed.

The man stopped short on the threshold and, then, Rey had no choice but to meet his sharp, angry, terrible gaze. There were no traces of the person she had talked to in the gardens. Now, he was just the  _Oberstleutnant_   _Ren_. His military bearing was very stiff, his teeth gritted in a bitter rictus and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“What are you doing here? Why did you enter without permission?” He demanded sharply. "Answer me!” His barking was violent enough to make her tremble. It was as if he was reprimanding the lowest soldier in the troop.

"I…I thought I forgot something," she babbled, almost in a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

He tilted his head, with that arrogant and distrustful expression he used when studying people. Rey tried to make an excuse, but the words refused to come out of her mouth.

“Did you read any of this?” He said in the same tone, pointing to the stack of papers on the desk.

“No, of course not, I ...”

“Read it!” he ordered cuttingly, handing her a piece of paper.

"I didn’t see anything, I promise." She squeezed her eyes shut to emphasize the statement.

“Read it now! Aloud!” He barked.

Frozen with terror, Rey had no choice but to obey. Slowly, she reached out and took the pieces of paper the man handed her. Her head was working at full speed. What was the point of all this? Of course, if the document was written in German, she would not understand a word and then make a fool of herself. Did he want that? To punish her with humiliation?

Surprisingly, when she looked down, she found familiar words written in clumsy and untidy French. After a brief pause, she cast a pitiful glance at her interrogator, waiting for some signal. But he just glared at her, implacable. So she began to read.

“To whom it may interest, Mr. Blanc is married and has three children, but for months he has...” Rey blushed at the content. She looked up questioningly at the Lieutenant Colonel. The man had his eyes fixed on the window and, after noticing her silence, he urged her to continue with a gesture. "...He has had sexual relations with a woman half his age."

Her brain tried to process the information.  _What the hell did that mean?_

"Mr. Benoit traded on the black market," Ren continued, taking another paper, "And Mrs. Clement goes to Mass, but she is a dirty Jew."

“Where did you get all of this?” Rey managed to ask.

“They are letters from your neighbors. After we came, all these anonymous complaints began to arrive in the Mayor's office.”

"It’s just village gossip, from resentful people," she said, echoing Jess's words. “You cannot take them seriously. Right? You should burn them.”

“I should, but my superiors ordered me to read and investigate.” Without looking at it, he dismissed her. “You can leave now.”

Rey looked up at him once more before leaving. Her eyes itched with unwanted tears. But, this time, the anguish didn’t come from fear. She was crying because of the disappointment and guilt she felt. How dare he accuse her unjustly, when she had only wanted to find out what books he was reading? Was he taking her for a spy? But was she? Hadn’t she planned the theft of information from his office, only a few hours ago?

Conflicted and confused, she shot him a hurt look that he didn’t bother to return, then left the room at full speed.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

"I summoned you here because I think you should know," said the Madame in the kitchen. Jess, Maz and Rey were there, standing with their hands behind their backs.

After the encounter with the Lieutenant Colonel, the young woman had decided to stop using the crutches. Supposedly, she should use them for two more days, but, at that point, she didn’t care anymore. Rey preferred never to walk again than to give another satisfaction to that  _damned_   _German._  However, to her surprise, she discovered that her ankle was no longer painful and that she could walk without problems. Better like that. She would not depend on anyone else.

"A note came from the front this morning," the woman said somberly. “Gaston is ... " Her voice broke for a brief moment, after which she regained his composure with a sigh. However, Madame’s eyes shone. “Gaston is in a German concentration camp.”

There was a gasp. Jessica put both hands to her mouth and Maz let out a sob. Rey remained silent.

“So, if I see you  _fraternizing_  with that man again ...”

“Madame, I do not ...”

“Silence!” she cut Rey off angrily. “I know everything that happens in this house." Her eyes were wide, and she looked Rey and Jess with suspicion. Both lowered their heads. “I cannot bear to have them here when I know what my son is going through. I see them and ... I would tear their eyes out!” she said, holding an accusing finger to the air and raising her voice an octave. “This  _German_ is our enemy. Do. You. Understand?” Finished, she held their gaze for a moment, a relentless determination written on her face.

"Yes, Madame," they answered in unison.

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

That afternoon, the Lieutenant Colonel catalogued each paper on his desk to verify that everything was in place. He even took the trouble to recount the ration cards he had in his possession. Eighty-three. The same amount he had brought three days ago.

So, what had she been doing in his _suite_?

When he had seen her hanging around his desk, he had felt like a complete idiot. Of course. Why would she talk to him? Probably everything was a distraction tactic. And he, blinded with a naivety that could not be forgiven, had fallen.

Since that last meeting with his father, Kylo Ren had confined himself to a self-imposed solitude. The conflict had torn him apart for days, and isolation had been the only thing that could detach him from the pain. Secluded in his own living space, he hadn’t let anything or anyone reach him, convinced that this was the only way to avoid the guilt that threatened to consume him.

But his course of action had taken its toll, a fact impossible to ignore. The disconnection with himself and those around him had made him colorblind to his own emotional spectrum. He knew that the emotions were there, but he could not identify them. From his point of view, everything was confused and dyed black and red, the colors of the only feelings he had fed in order to survive: anger, fear and distrust.

However, that morning, he had  _connected_  with her. The conversation, which at first glance might have seemed flat and banal, had stirred up feelings that he believed buried. For the first time in a long time, a ray of light had seeped into his dark soul, allowing him to interact with someone beyond his obligations or his primary needs. And, despite her initial mistrust, she had reciprocated by sharing her own insecurities.

Afterward, Kylo Ren knew that he was frankly terrified. He had shut himself up for a reason, and now he feared that pain and memories of the past would come back for him. When he found her sniffing around his desk, all the fears, the vulnerability, and his own insecurity had crashed into his head, turning on all the alarms. Then, he reacted in the only way he knew, the only way the army and the war had allowed him to.

He covered his fears with the familiar—the authoritarian and cruel facade. However, once he was in the security of his office, doubt ate at him.

What was she _doing_ here?

Despite his distrust, which was his second nature, the conversation in the gardens had felt so spontaneous and real that it cast a shadow of doubt over his paranoid reasoning.

Instinctively, his eyes returned to the book that rested in a corner of the table. It was slightly crooked, with half of its body protruding from the desk. Was it that? Had she risked coming here just to find out what the hell he was reading?

For some strange reason, the hypothesis was more convincing than he would have liked to admit. The longing and desire that had illuminated the face of the young woman that morning had been so frank, so natural... Kylo Ren had extensive experience in interrogation and, sooner or later, he always discovered the truth. To suppose that Mrs. Holdo's young and naive maid was a professional spy was too much, even for someone as obsessive as he was.

Frustrated, he banged both fists against the desk.

_Not that I care so much_ , he hastened to clarify, his self-preservation instinct reactivating. But he would have to earn Rey’s respect if he wanted to live in peace.  _Yes. That is the point_. After his victory in the previous days and the conversation in the gardens, he considered that there would be no holding back if he wanted to achieve a minimum of cooperation.

He had to redeem himself. But how?

 

.

* * *

 

.

 

While Jess finished washing the last pots in the kitchen, Rey went up to the bedroom. It had been a long day, charged with conflicting emotions, and she was completely exhausted. Careful not to force her ankle, she supported one foot after the other as she held onto the railing of the stairs.

When she reached the landing on the first floor, a figure emerged from the shadows, surprising her.

It was the Lieutenant Colonel.

For the first time, he seemed to look domestic and informal inside the house. He had military pants and boots on, but his chest was clothed only in a white T-shirt. The lines of his muscles were clearly defined under the fabric. She was also surprised to notice that some freckles splashed his powerful arms here and there.

For some reason, his ordinary clothes and imperfections made him look more human than she liked to admit. It was strange; Rey would never have imagined that someone as authoritarian as the Lieutenant Colonel could walk around in something similar to sleepwear and openly show off his moles.

However, Rey decided not to pay it any attention. She was tired of him. Looking away, she continued walking down the hall to the staircase that led to her room.

"Miss," he intercepted in a flat but polite voice, "I think I found what you were looking for.”

Rey watched him for a moment, stunned.

Then, suddenly interested in his boots, the man pulled a package from behind his back and handed it to her.

What the hell was happening? Was he  _ashamed_? Was this an _apology_?

However, her resentful ego and Madame's fresh sermon urged her to ignore him. She would not fall into the trap again.

"I cannot talk to you," she answered, ignoring his outstretched hand and turning her back on him.

Before Rey could glide on at full speed, she felt that he was holding her arm.

“It's alright. Just take it," he said.

Suddenly, she couldn’t think. The warmth of his hand on her bare skin baffled her, sending a wave of fever and electricity from the limb to the rest of her body. Then, turning to look at him, she nearly gasped. Against expectation, his amber eyes were no longer harsh or distrustful, but hungry and pleading. For a fleeting moment, she wondered how many personalities could fit into one man. 

_Do all the Nazis have a personality disorder?_ She asked herself.

Confused, Rey loosened herself from his grip with a jolt. Her body immediately protested the lost heat, but her mind ignored it.

After studying him for a moment, she decided it was not worth the fuss. She would take whatever he offered and then escape to the safety of her room.

With a resigned sigh, she reached out slowly and took the package, taking special care not to touch his ungloved hands. She held it between her fingers, weighing it for a moment. Judging by its size, weight and shape, she thought she could guess what it was. However, before she could draw any conclusion, he interrupted her:

"Your secret is safe with me," he finished, a strange grimace on his face. Was it a smile of complicity or self-satisfaction?

But Rey didn’t have time to consider it. Without saying more, the man turned around and went back into the  _suite_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tips:
> 
> \- Football it's one of the sports with more followers in Germany, France and England. In fact, soldiers played often when they had free time.
> 
> \- Hitler was a great speaker of his time. In fact, his charismatic style was one of the causes of his great popularity in Germany. Before and after his rise to power, he gave long and passionate sermons addressed to his followers (somewhat histrionic, if you ask me).
> 
> \- The myth of Hades and Persephone is one of the well known Greek myths. Hades fell in love with Persephone and decided to kidnap her. The myth says that in one of the rare times he left the Underworld, he traveled above ground to pursue her, while she was gathering flowers in a field.
> 
> \- In the beginning, any enemy of the Nazi regime could end up in concentration camps. The "Final Solution" and concentration camps aimed at killing Jews on a large scale began to be implemented after Germany invaded Russia in 1941 and were managed by the SS (the Wehrmacht rarely intervened or had knowledge about it). Note that we're still in 1940 here.


End file.
